


No straighter path than to struggle

by otatop



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, Hospitals, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sick Character, Sick Neil Josten, Surgery, andrew minyard is a doting asshole bf, it's appreciate aaron minyard o'clock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19989904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otatop/pseuds/otatop
Summary: Neil is sick and it's fine until it's not.There's a lot of soup.





	1. Taco Tuesday is unappreciated and things go south

**Author's Note:**

> Wahoo! This is a work that I did for my absolute FAVORITE aftg artist [ziegenkind](https://twitter.com/ziegenkind094l) ! Go show some support!!! 
> 
> Please read this with a suspension of disbelief as a large chunk takes place in a hospital setting. Sure, a lot of things are based on personal experiences, but this is also a work of fiction and should be consumed as such. 
> 
> This is TECHNICALLY in the same universe as [Just closed eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171294) but by no means do you need to read that one (though I hope that you do anyway!)
> 
> I rated for excessive swearing and because of the depictions of a character dissociating.

It starts on a Tuesday, with tacos and fireworks.

The tacos were planned, the fireworks were not, and some might consider it a date. Neil considered it a date, at least. Maybe he only did so because he didn’t know what normal people considered dates, as he and Andrew were sitting on the curb outside of a boarded up gas station. But Andrew had bought them dinner and they had held hands in the car and from their hilly back road perch they could see someone setting off fireworks in their backyard. That all added up to a date in his mind. 

Neil picked vaguely at the tortilla of his cold taco and watched Andrew flash with blues and reds and pinks. The dramatic changes showed just how shiny his hair was and Neil very badly wanted to reach out and feel it between his fingers. He might have, if he didn’t have sour cream on his fingers. He considered doing it anyway but his train of thought was interrupted by Andrew. 

“You’re doing it again,” he said without looking at Neil and ripped off a piece of his taco to eat. 

“Staring?” Neil guessed. 

“Not eating.” Andrew punctuated his observation with another bite. Neil looked down at the squashed taco in his hands and then back up to see Andrew looking at him. 

“I’m just not hungry sometimes,” he shrugged. It wasn’t an unusual thing. He thought maybe it was a side effect of the life he used to lead. Food wasn’t always easy to come by so when they had some it was eaten no matter what. Even if it was spoiled. Even, especially, if they were about to leave. If they couldn’t carry it and they didn’t know when their next meal would come, his mother would make them eat every last crumb. Don’t waste the effort. Don’t waste the calories.  _ You’re too skinny Abram _ .

Neil hated eating when he wasn’t hungry and he said so to Andrew, only to get an impassive look. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast- you should be hungry enough to eat by now.” Andrew wiped his hand on Neil’s pants and then lifted it to his forehead for a beat. He pulled it back with a very small frown so Neil leaned forward and took a bite of the taco in Andrew’s hand. The surprise of the movement was enough to derail the conversation. 

“You have your own,” Andrew said, poorly attempting to look miffed about it (or perhaps Neil just knew him better now). Neil chewed more than necessary and forced himself to swallow. 

“You’re better at folding the tortillas, makes ‘em taste better.” 

“They’re exactly the same,” Andrew argued.

“Mm-mm. Everyone knows how you fold or cut something affects the taste by up to 57%. Tacos, sandwiches, pizza, bagels…” Neil listed. He was only slightly joking.

“Bagels,” Andrew deadpanned. “Why are bagels on that list. There’s only one way to cut them.”

“Maybe if you’re a coward,” Neil said. He snatched Andrew’s half eaten taco away even though he wasn’t actually hungry. Andrew had been right, he  _ should _ be hungry and in the morning he would probably feel terrible if he didn’t have anything now. So he over chewed, forced it down, and grinned. 

Andrew rolled his eyes and pulled out the last taco. After refolding it in his precise manner, he messily ripped it in two, and shoved one half in Neil’s face. 

“Hurry up. I’m tired and we have to pack.” Andrew got up and started around the deserted gas station to the Maserati. 

Neil hurried as best he could and grabbed the bag on his way to the car. 

The night was cool for July and an invigorating breeze rushed through the car as they zipped back to the Columbia house. Neil watched how it sent Andrew’s hair whipping about. It would be tangled and fluffy by the end of the drive and Neil knew that Andrew would take a long time to brush it out in the bathroom without anyone seeing. Neil wondered if his own hair would be that soft if he brushed with that much care, but every time he even thought about trying to detangle one of his odd curls his scalp would hurt. So instead he lived vicariously through Andrew. 

At the house, the others were already in bed. At least, Kevin was asleep on the couch with the lights off and Nicky and Aaron were shut up in their rooms. Andrew loudly kicked off his boots at the door of the hall closet and turned on every light he passed on his way upstairs. Kevin didn’t react. Neil locked the door and turned all of the lights back off on his way up to their room. 

He found Andrew dropping random articles of clothing in a PSU duffel bag without checking what they were or folding them properly. That was one way to go about it, but Neil had roughed it through too many weekends of Andrew’s passive packing and refused to be stuck away from home with only a pair of leggings and loose t-shirt again (though, given Andrew’s reaction, maybe that  _ one _ outfit hadn’t been an accident). He rifled through a few drawers and grabbed an extra pair of jeans. 

“Where are your grey keds?” Andrew asked from the closet. Neil raise one eyebrow at his back at the request. 

“On the shoe rack downstairs. Because I’m civilized. Why?”

“Blue shorts.”

Ah. The blue shorts. Neil very much did not hurry at all even one little bit to grab the sneakers from downstairs. Shorts were something new for Andrew. Nicky had bought him a dark navy pair in the spring that didn’t go well with clunky boots and also looked- they were- 

Well, let’s just say the first (and only) time Neil had seen them he hadn’t been able to think much past the concept of  _ legs _ . 

Andrew gave him a  _ look _ when he came back. He knew. Of course he knew. Neil was far more open about things he liked and  _ occasionally _ Andrew’s apathetic behaviors just so happened to accidentally coincide with them. He grabbed the sneakers and tossed them next to the duffel with their phones and wallets. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. 

They got ready for bed together and around each other, taking turns in the bathroom brushing hair and teeth, sharing kisses just this side of too minty. Neil pulled the sheet up over them and tucked his toes into Andrew’s ankles. Tomorrow was going to be a good day, just like every day had been a good day. 

Tomorrow was not a good day. 

Neil hadn’t even opened his eyes before he knew that he didn’t feel right. Instantly, his instincts kicked in over the panic and he took stock of where he was and what he was feeling. Bed with Andrew, there was an even breath warming the back of his neck and their ankles were tangled. Columbia, they had been kicked out of Palmetto by Wymack who was forcing them to take a two week break from being on the court. A fever was coming on, every hair follicle on his body was sensitive and he felt hot and freezing at the same time. 

He leaned back into Andrew so as to wake him gently, stretching his legs to flex his hips and immediately curling back in on himself. Behind him, Andrew shifted and drew his arm over Neil’s waist, hand coming up to press flat over his sternum. 

“ ‘m sick,” Neil croaked out, surprised at the amount of effort it took. His throat didn’t hurt and his nose wasn’t clogged but he felt  _ exhausted _ after having just had a great night sleep. The hand between his ribs came up to flap haphazardly against his forehead and then dropped to rest on his chest. 

“You’re warm,” Andrew said into his neck. “Stomach?”

Neil made his best facsimile of a sound he hoped meant  _ I don’t know _ because that wasn’t something he could figure out just yet. He hadn’t moved and he couldn’t smell any food so his stomach was safe for now. He leaned back into Andrew further, an attempt to be affectionate and steal warmth all at once. The thought of getting out of bed was agonizing and the thought of Andrew getting out of bed was almost as bad. 

“I can hear you being dramatic. Go back to sleep,” Andrew said. It didn’t take long for his breathing to even back out so Neil focused on that until he, too, fell back under. 

When he awoke again, he didn't feel any better. He felt weak and emotionally vulnerable and Andrew had somehow escaped the bed without alerting him which said enough about how he was doing mentally. With great effort, he hauled himself up to sit on the bed. For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, gauging how his body reacted to the change. His head spun only a little and his stomach turned but it wasn't unbearable so he pushed up to stand. The room was warm but his body felt cold to the core so he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders before shuffling down to the living room. 

Kevin was only just waking up on the couch so it couldn't be too late in the morning. The others sounded like they were in the kitchen so Neil meandered that way in search of… of something. He wouldn't admit to himself that he was looking for sympathy or affection and he didn't have to. He was sick. His motivations didn't matter. 

"...can't she come anyway? I thought we were past all that by now," Nicky was saying. 

"Deal or no deal," Andrew said. 

Aaron responded almost immediately with, " _ Deal _ ," and stomped out of the kitchen. He paused when he saw Neil, eyes critically looking him up and down. Neil didn't have the energy to be offended by the sneer he got.

"You look like shit, go back to bed," he said and went to the living room before Neil could snarl at him about his bedside manner. 

The comment had Andrew coming to the kitchen entrance to give Neil a disapproving look. 

"Why are you up?" He demanded. 

Neil took a step forward so he could slump face first into Andrew's shoulder. "You were gone," he said. It wasn't eloquent, wasn't as subtle or teasing as they usually were together, but it was direct and honest and better than the groan he would have let out otherwise. 

Andrew wrapped one arm around Neil's waist with a sigh and held out his other hand. "Nicky."

"Got'cha," Nicky said, and put a saucer in Andrew's hand with what looked like a cup of tea and plain buttered toast. Andrew guided them both back upstairs and deposited Neil back into bed. 

"I was going to come back up, junkie," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting the mug between Neil's waiting hands. It was almost too hot but the warmth was welcome. He didn't take a sip.

"I'm impatient," he reasoned. Neither of them acknowledged that the [ infrequent ] affectionate insult compared Neil's intense feelings about Exy to Andrew. It wasn't inaccurate, though it had been a long time since Exy came first. With a sigh, he let his head drop back to his throne of pillows and looked up at Andrew. "I have to stay home." Andrew nodded his head and began to run his fingertips in patterns over Neil's scalp. "I was really looking forward to a night away."

"We'll go when you're well again."

"You'll still go see Betsy, yea?" Andrew nodded. "Can you have her tell Elias that I'll miss my appointment?" A nod. "Will you still go to dinner at Abby's?" A nod. "Will you still wear the blue shorts?" Andrew gave him a look. Neil grinned. 

"I'll get a break from your disease and an edible meal but I'll be back tonight. You will rest and do what Aaron tells you to."

His grin fell. "You shouldn't be allowed to punish someone who’s sick."

"He's spent every free minute volunteering at the clinic to look good for medical school and you become useless when you have a fever. You're going to eat, drink, and take what he tells you to and you're not going to whine about it."

Neil pursed his lips against a smile. On the tip of his tongue was teasing comment about how worried Andrew was but he knew it wouldn't be appreciated. Instead, he said, "Does this mean I'm useful all the rest of the time?"

The fingers on his scalp scratched pleasantly and then Andrew began to gently detangle a curl over his forehead. When it was a smooth, loose wave he brushed it to the side and let his thumb stroke over his temple and down his jaw. He looked Neil in the eye and said, "No," because he was a bastard and knew it would make Neil smile. 

Neil didn’t drink his tea or eat his toast, just held the mug up to his face and smelled the herbs and bergamot. It was his favorite brand, and while the smell didn’t make his stomach turn, the idea of swallowing anything made his abs shiver. 

When the mug cooled and the toast went soggy, Andrew put it all above the headboard on the nightstand so that Neil could sink lower into the pillows. After tucking the sheets tight around Neil’s body, he left to shower. Neil fought his body’s urge to sleep- he wanted to stay awake until Andrew left for his appointment. He wanted to stay aware of everything happening to him. 

And maybe he did doze, or maybe he simply couldn’t keep track of time in this state, because one second he was fighting with the sheets and the next Andrew was back and dragging him into the bathroom to take his own shower. He wasn’t so sick that he couldn’t curse out the water pressure on his over-sensitive skin or the temperature that was always too hot and too cold no matter how many times he adjusted it. He couldn’t lie, though, being clean and in new pajamas did make him feel a little bit better. 

They relaxed together for a little while, Andrew reading a book held with one hand as the other methodically detangled Neil’s wet hair as he lay in bed. Neil mourned the time away from Columbia and the privacy they were supposed to find that night. They had both missed their therapy appointments last week and were going to go today before dinner at Abby’s and a night at a local motel. It wasn’t much, but it was alone time and Neil was  _ sure _ he could weasel the door code out of Wymack and convince Andrew to go to the court with him for a few hours. He hadn’t played Exy in  _ ten days _ which was the longest he’d gone since Baltimore and it  _ sucked _ . He and Kevin would do what they could in the backyard but it wasn’t enough. Vacations were  _ terrible _ .

And, well, he had really been looking forward to that motel room… and the  _ shorts _ . Sigh, the shorts.

“Did you just say the word sigh?” Andrew asked. Neil, curled on his side with his face pressed to Andrew’s hip, wriggled in his nest to squint up at him. The squint was more to focus his sight than to glare as moving made his vision swim just a little. 

“So what if I did?” he challenged. Andrew squeezed at the hair in his hands and walked on his knees to the foot of the bed to get up. 

“So you need to take medicine. And you can’t do that without eating-”

“Why  _ not _ ?” Neil interrupted petulantly.

“Because that always makes you nauseous,” Andrew said and left the room. He came back with a plate of small bites, baby carrots and blueberries and fresh toast cut into strips, and a glass of water. Neil looked longingly at the blueberries, almost craving the fresh brightness of them on his tongue but… but…

He started with a few tentative sips of water. The wrinkle between Andrew’s eyebrows eased. Neil hadn’t even noticed that it was there. He took another sip and squished a blueberry between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He felt okay and then he didn’t.

“Yes or no for a goodbye kiss.  _ Right now _ .”

Andrew raised a brow and sat next to him on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m not leaving for another thirty minutes.”

“Yea, but I’m gonna go throw up in the next thirty  _ seconds _ and we’re definitely not going to kiss after that.”

Andrew huffed something that was almost amused. He drew his hands through Neil’s hair, dry after the shower but damp at the roots from sweat. He stroked his rough fingers down his chin, thumb drawing once over his bottom lip before he covered Neil’s entire mouth with his hand and kissed the back of his own knuckles. Then his cheek. Then he dodged out of the way as Neil ran to the bathroom to relieve his stomach.

He lost himself to the movement, focused solely on the function and getting it over with. His body was in complete control and kept wringing and clenching far after there was nothing left, far after a pain began to grow in his abs. 

He collapsed to the ground, on the cold tile and damp bath mat, body boiling hot and covered in a sheen of sweat. His nose was running in the worst way. When he caught his breath enough to push away from the toilet, he found his glass of water and a tissue box waiting on the sink counter. He didn’t dare swallow again but used them both to help himself feel more human. 

Sitting up was one thing but standing was something else all together. The pain in his stomach was still there, a pulled muscle from over exertion. Neil blew his nose and then breathed in slowly, slowly, and out through pursed lips. He counted to keep them even, both for the pain and the slight tremor of panic at the inkling of helplessness. In a minute or so, he was able to talk himself into the present. There was not one reason he had to struggle through this on his own. He wasn’t alone. He hadn’t been alone for a long time.

“Andrew?” He beckoned carefully, not wanting to put so much pressure on his diaphragm. Andrew came in so quickly at the quiet call that he must have been right outside the door. The wrinkle between his eyebrows was back and deeper. Neil reached for him with one hand and held his middle with the other.

“Don’t look like that. I think it’s just a pulled muscle. Help me back to bed?”

Andrew came in and had Neil put both of their arms together, wrist to elbow, so he could pull Neil up in a controlled motion. When he got Neil settled back onto the bed, he wandered about collecting water and tissues and a trash bin to set up around the nightstand. He only came to sit down when he had a damp face cloth that he used to pat at Neil’s forehead and cheeks. The coolness felt good on his fiery skin even as his insides shivered. 

“I’m calling Bee and staying here,” he said when he put the cloth aside. Neil wagged his finger because shaking his head was too much effort.

“No. You already missed last week and you’ve been antsy and bored for days. I’m just going to sleep all day and get my germs all over the place. I even got Abby to make your favorite dinner.  _ Surprise _ .” He shook his hands in a lazy flourish.

Andrew frowned, adjusting Neil’s pillow and moving the water glass all of half an inch. His gruff fussing gave away his worry which would have been sweet if Neil didn’t feel slightly guilty. Going away for the night had been Andrew’s idea after all, and how often did he plan things like that? “You said it yourself about Aaron. I’ll be in good hands.”

“You’re becoming delusional,” Andrew accused. And yea, Neil felt slightly out of his mind but Andrew really  _ had _ been bored. He needed a break from the empty monotony of summer and the same walls and the same four people. Even if he did it without Neil. “I’ll see Bee and come back,” he compromised. 

“But if you don’t go to dinner, you can’t get the court code from Wymack.”

A raised brow. “Who said anything about going to the court.”

“Andrew, my body is going into Exy withdrawal. I’m not going to make it to the end of Wymack’s forced vacation. I need the codes.” 

“You’re not playing Exy until you’re no longer sick.”

“The court has my antibodies, I just need to get there.”

“You expect me to drive an hour to Palmetto, an hour back, and another hour  _ back _ to Palmetto just so you can vomit on the court floor.”

Neil made a face to convey how ridiculous Andrew sounded. “ ‘T’s- it’s basic  _ maths _ Andrew. Biology. Don’t have time to explain because you need to go. Goodnight.” To drive the point home, Neil rolled over and fell face first into the indent Andrew left behind from reading earlier. Andrew stayed seated on the edge of the bed for a few more minutes after letting out a sigh of pure exasperation, hand going through Neil’s hair and rubbing down his back. When he left, it took him several more minutes before Neil heard the front door slam. It was for the best, he needed it. 

Neil kicked himself for realizing ten minutes too late that Andrew had been wearing the shorts. 

And then he kicked himself for staying in this position too long when it was hurting his stomach. Rolling was more of an effort when he wasn’t being dramatic to downplay his symptoms. Laying on his left side wasn’t any better and neither was his back. Laying on his stomach was out of the question. Pain was something he was used to, something he could deal with. But it wasn’t something he could sleep through, which was all he wanted to do now that Andrew was gone. 

At some point, he pushed himself up to sit. That seemed to help the pain but not the sleeping. And without sleeping he was  _ bored _ . He tried reading Andrew’s book but he couldn’t get his eyes to focus. It was all very annoying and boring and inconvenient and there was nobody around to bother. 

Neil grabbed his phone from the nightstand and did his best to text Nicky to ask him to help carry his plate and water and blankets down to the living room. He didn’t plan on eating or drinking any of it, but they were a good excuse to have someone walk with him down the stairs. Not that he couldn’t walk, because he could, but he could admit that he might be too woozy to go down a staircase on his own. 

The response was a quick  _ Don’t text and drive! _ Which was very difficult for his brain to parse in its current state. He pressed  _ call  _ and leaned his entire head on the phone, elbow braced on his knee. 

_ “Andrew Minyard I  _ know _ you are not using your phone while driving _ ,” Nicky shouted into the line. Neil could hear his voice from downstairs as well.

“Come and help me,” he said. 

“ _ Neil? Why do you have Andrew’s phone? Why are you calling at all? You’re right upstairs. _ ” 

“Then come upstairs and help.” He hung up. Nicky’s thundering up the stairs was like a cavalry call that prepared Neil to brace himself before Nicky barrelled into the room. Aaron was hot on his heels with a wrinkle between his brows that made Neil smirk.

“I have a plate,” he said helpfully. He needed them to carry it downstairs for him. He was too busy using all of his mental faculties to have this conversation and prepare for the trek. God, his eyeballs were so  _ hot,  _ why were they so  _ hot _ ? They felt like soup. 

On the television was a show with bouncy music and people baking cakes. Neil smooshed his face into the couch cushion and mourned its loss when he pushed himself up to relieve the pressure on his stomach pain. There was a wet face cloth creating a damp spot on the seat and he picked it up to dab at his face. It wasn’t cool enough for his eyeballs but it still felt nice. In a fit of dehydrated desperation, he held it briefly to his mouth and let a few drops wet his dry palate and lips. 

His eyes drifted up to see Aaron standing in front of him, hands paused in a text and an incredulous look on his face. Neil lowered the cloth. 

“Thanks for the couch,” he said, because he couldn’t quite remember getting to the living room but he knew Aaron had been there. 

“Not that you were any help,” Aaron griped. He finished his text and shoved his phone in his back pocket. “Where and how bad is your stomach pain?”

Neil gestured vaguely at the center of his abdomen. “ ‘Ts’enough to be annoying but bearable if I’m sitting up.”

“When did it start?”

“When I threw up. Think I pulled a muscle.”

Aaron shook his head very slightly, as if only to himself. “I don’t think so but I’m not too worried right now. Let me know  _ immediately _ if it changes in any way.  _ Any  _ way. Kevin is picking up stuff for you on his way back from Excites so rest until then.”

“Why are you being so  _ nice _ ?" Neil asked. Or, tried to ask. He was a little slow and ended up asking Aaron’s retreating back. He wondered what part Andrew had in Aaron playing doctor. Surely he wouldn’t do it without incentive and Andrew wouldn’t have gone to his appointment otherwise. 

More importantly, how dare the fuck Kevin go to Excites without him?

Time was a funny little thing. Neil distracted himself from the gnawing stomach ache by switching between watching the baking show and thinking about what he would say to Kevin when he returned. Occasionally, he would be distracted by his hot eyeballs or the rabid need to bundle up and immediately push the blanket away. Sometimes he dabbed around his face and mouth with the damp cloth and longed for a glass of cold water or hot tea that he could keep down. A sandwich would do wonders, too, when sometimes he felt like his blood sugar was misbehaving. The idea of repeating that morning was enough to kill any of those desires.

Kevin came back when the bakers were making something french. He was laden with green Excites bags and several from Kroger. He stared at Neil as he kicked off his shoes next to the shoe rack which made Neil’s irritation flare and he glared at Kevin’s wary face.

“I have  _ soup balls _ ,” he said angrily. Kevin startled and nearly dropped his bags. To Neil, he looked chastised. Good. 

“What?”

“Soup balls, Kevin. I need… I need  _ peas _ .”

“Peas?”

“Cold peas.”

Kevin’s eyes dropped to Neil’s lap and then came back up. His mouth opened and closed dumbly a few times. Neil jabbed a threatening finger to get his point across and was satisfied when the striker hurried away into the kitchen. He returned with an unopened bag of frozen peas that Neil put straight on his face. Yes. Good. 

“Oh. Did he tell you about his soup balls?” Aaron’s voice said from the stairs.

“Yeah. What the fuck?” Kevin responded.

“That’s why I sent you to the store. Did you get everything?”

“It’s all in the kitchen.”

Neil heard Aaron walk away and gestured blindly for Kevin to come closer. 

“ _ Excites _ ,” he accused.

“You were going to go to the court!”

“But I  _ didn’t _ ,  _ Kev _ in. So tha’s- that’s  _ not fair _ .”

“You couldn't come anyway! You can barely function!”

“You’re  _ mean _ , Kevin. You’re a  _ bully _ .”

“I got you new court shoes.”

“Tha’s- be _ side _ the point.”

“Are you two done?”

“He started it.”

Neil didn’t have to see to know what looks Kevin and Aaron were probably making at each other.

“Hey sweety.”

When did Nicky come in the room? Neil put the bag of peas on the coffee table (maybe the floor next to it. Close enough) and found that not only was Nicky in the room, he was sitting next to him on the couch. He also saw that Kevin had changed the channel.

“I was watching that,” he said.

“You were snoring,” Kevin countered. Huh. He didn’t remember falling asleep. The peas were still mostly cold so it couldn’t have been for that long. 

Nicky brushed Neil’s hair away from his forehead and smoothed his hand over his crown in a few soothing sweeps. 

“How are you feeling?” Nicky asked.

“Underproved,” Neil said. He wasn’t really sure what it meant but he’d heard it on the baking show and it  _ sounded _ how he felt. Nicky nodded with an understanding expression. 

“Aaron wants me to take your temp before he has you try to eat some soup. Think you can handle it?”

Could he  _ handle _ it. Pah. He’d been tortured. He’d fled across  _ continents  _ for  _ years _ . He lived with  _ Kevin _ . Neil opened his mouth and closed it tight as soon as the thermometer was under his tongue. Could he  _ handle _ it. Uh, yeah, Nicky. He could fucking handle some pointy glass stabbing his mouth and clanking against his teeth.

“Neil, please stop chewing on the thermometer for like-  _ ten _ seconds.  _ Please _ .”

“Huck yo’.”

“ _ Oh my god _ .”

“It’s probably good, Nicky. What’s it read?” Aaron said as he came in, wiping his hands on a dish towel. Nicky slid the thermometer from between Neil’s clenching teeth with a distasteful scrunch of his nose. He went cross-eyed trying to see the numbers. 

“101 pooooint six? Eight?” He said, looking up to his cousin. Aaron rolled his eyes.

“Jesus fuck, Josten, you’re acting like you have a 104 temp. Andrew wasn’t exaggerating about how useless you are with a fever.”

“ _ You’re _ useless,” Neil spat. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, the numbers meant or what they should be but he did know how awful he felt. His brain was jumbled and he yo-yoed violently between hot and cold but his body felt too weak to keep readjusting the blanket. And his stomach  _ hurt _ no matter how he was sitting anymore. There were no life threatening situations pumping him with adrenaline and no reason to push himself further than he already was.

Andrew would be proud of the change in mindset. Or smug, as he’d been the one to bribe Neil into therapy. Growth, or something. 

“Why do we have to have  _ soup _ . It’s way too hot for that,” Kevin was complaining from the recliner. Neil stared longingly at that chair.

“You can have an opinion when you cook anything. Ever,” Aaron shot back. 

That was the chair Neil had slept in the night Andrew gave him the key.

“You were already in the kitchen,” Kevin said.

Andrew had said “ _ You’re staying here _ ,” and pressed the key into his hand and then Neil had gone to bed in that recliner.

“I’m not going to make two meals just because you’re useless in the kitchen. Ask Nicky if you don’t want soup.”

Andrew. Neil wished he’d been selfish and asked him to stay. Even though he knew it was for the best. 

“He makes food too spicy and all you did was heat a can of Campbell’s. That’s hardly  _ cooking _ .”

Andrew had given him a key and a home and a good, good life.

“It’s more than  _ you  _ can cook-”

“ _ Keys _ ,” Neil said wistfully. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to look at him. “I… have them,” he explained. Obviously. 

“Nicky, are you sure you read that right?” Aaron asked. 

“Give me  _ some _ credit. I got you two through the flu of junior year and feverish teenage Minyards are  _ way _ more volatile than this loon.” 

“That’s a bird,” Neil pointed out. It made Nicky laugh which was good because he was funny. Matt said he was funny. 

“Am I allowed to find this hilarious? Even a little? It’s like he’s a drunk baby,” Nicky cooed, patting down one of Neil’s errant curls. Neil frowned at him. He meant to say something about the drinking age, and he did say  _ something _ to make Nicky laugh, but he wasn’t too sure what it was. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Aaron grumbled as he stomped toward the kitchen. He came back with a bowl of soup and left again as soon as Neil took it. Unlike his tea that morning, the heat was  _ too _ hot and made Neil sweat more. He hated it. He didn’t want to eat it. He didn’t want to get sick again. His stomach  _ hurt _ he didn’t want this.

“Hey, uh, Neil?” Nicky said tentatively. Neil looked at him as an excuse not to eat. “All joking aside, do you need help eating that?” He made the offer quietly so that Kevin couldn’t overhear. Neil could appreciate the sentiment, even in his state.

“I can’t do it. I don’t want to eat anything, it hurts too much,” Neil whispered. The expectations were striking something almost like fear in him, adrenaline clearing his mind just so. Nicky put one arm on the back of the couch around Neil’s shoulders and continued petting his hair.

“I know, hon, but you need to take some ibuprofen to help your fever and you always feel sick if you take it without food.”

Andrew had said the exact same thing, implied that he knew Neil literally inside and out.  _ Being known _ , his mind tried to whisper but his focus couldn’t stray from the problem in his hands.

“Sick no matter what,” he said. It was a catch-22 if he was going to do what Aaron said. Eat to take the meds, don’t eat to take them. It all had the same outcome. Neil felt his breath begin to quicken and shallow, just slightly. The memory of being wrung out like a towel and the pain it caused were revolting. He didn’t want to he  _ couldn’t _ .

“I don’t feel good,” he said urgently.

“I know,” Nicky lamented.  _ No _ he  _ didn’t _ know. With shaking hands, Neil tried to put his bowl on the coffee table. If it weren’t for Kevin, it would have fallen to the floor. 

“I don’t  _ feel good _ ,” he said again. His stomach  _ hurt _ and he couldn’t stop shaking and his vision was swimming. Something was  _ wrong _ . Why couldn’t they see that?

“At least he’s not trying to pull of that  _ I’m fine _ crap,” Kevin groused.

“ _ No _ ,” Neil choked out, throat tightening in his mounting panic even as his mouth was watering dangerously. “I don’t feel good,  _ I don’t feel good _ .”

“Alright, okay.” Nicky slid down to crouch in front of Neil. He put two hands on either side of his face, brushing his under eyes with his thumbs. “Hey, uh, Kevin? Something’s not right.”

“Obviously. He’s been like this since I got home.”

“No, it’s more than that.  _ Aaron? _ ” Nicky called toward the kitchen. “Can you come look at Neil again?”

“It’s been five minutes, let me finish,” Aaron called back.

“ _ Now _ ,” Nicky yelled. Neil didn’t like the yelling. He didn’t know why there was yelling and he didn’t know why his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

A frustrated sound came from the kitchen. “ _ Fine _ . Let me wash off this gross fucking meat…” He came in a blink later. Maybe it was a long blink. God he was so  _ tired _ .

In the next blink, Aaron’s body had replaced Nicky’s. He had his fingers pressed to Neil’s wrist and was staring at his watch.

“Your pulse is too fast,” he said, moving to feel the squishy bit below the sides of Neil’s jaw and then around his eyes. “Has the pain in your stomach changed?”

“Same, just bad,” Neil said. Talking was getting harder, the same with focusing his vision. He felt like he’d gone cross-eyed for too long. He felt like he’d had Cracker Dust. 

“What else are you feeling?”

“Bad.”

“Be specific, dumbass,” Aaron snapped. Neil jerked away from his face and immediately had to brace himself with a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. Every last inch of him wanted to snark back, to push him away for being a dick, but something deep and nagging said  _ hold on _ . He squeezed. 

“Weakness. Can’t focus. Shaky. Nau-n-  _ hng _ throw upy. Nerves.” It didn’t seem like enough, like it conveyed that all-encompassing  _ wrongness _ , but getting the words out was becoming more and more difficult as his breathing became more and more shallow. He tried to count, to slow himself down, but he couldn’t get past four. A sound escaped him without permission.

“When was the last time you kept down any food or water?”

“A taco… ‘n breakfast yes’er- yesterday.” 

“Aaron what’s  _ happening _ ? What do we  _ do _ ?” Nicky asked in a panic. Neil watched from his periphery, not wanting or having the energy to move his eyes.

“Call Andrew and tell him we’re going to take Neil to the walk in clinic.”

“Right. Okay.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. Even Neil knew it was bad when the phone to ring was the one on the coffee table. “Shit, fuck. I forgot . Let me call Neil’s phone.” He tried again and cursed almost immediately. “It’s off.”

“ _ Fuck _ . Why the fuck does Andrew have your useless phone, Josten? You never charge that shit!”

Another noise came out of Neil that he didn’t consciously make. He didn’t know what was causing him to be so disproportionately emotional- the fever or not reaching Andrew or  _ that face _ so close and expressive and  _ angry at him _ . His shallow breaths began to shake as badly as his hands.

“I don’t- we were packing- they’re the  _ same _ \- maybe- I don’t  _ know _ .”

“Alright. Aaron you need to calm down,” Nicky said. He was using his parent voice and Aaron shot him a dirty look. “He’s obviously distressed-”

“He’s obviously an  _ idiot _ . Andrew and I have a  _ deal _ \- you know how he is about that shit.”

Nicky’s thread-thin attempt at control snapped. “Oh, I  _ swear to God _ , if you’re more worried about Katelyn right now then it’s not  _ Andrew’s _ permission that you’re going to have to worry about.”

“Give me  _ some _ credit,” Aaron mimicked Nicky’s earlier expression. He sounded embarrassed and cornered and Neil didn’t understand but he also didn’t think the reaction had to do with the accusation, more so the truth, whatever it may be. 

“Enough,” Kevin finally butted in. Neil had almost forgotten he was there. “We need a game plan for  _ Neil _ right now, not whatever bullshit drama you have going on.”

“Right, yea, Neil, okay.” Nicky made for the door, then the kitchen, then stopped. “What do we do? What do you need?” This was directed at Aaron. Neil vaguely wondered how much more karma he had to atone for that Aaron was calling the shots on his health. 

And what Aaron was motivated by when he actually stepped up to the role.

“Nicky, you go start the car and get the a.c. going. Kevin, go write a note for Andrew if we can’t get ahold of him and he beats us home.”

“It’s  _ my car _ ,” Kevin argued, but Nicky was already flying into action, shoving his feet into flip flops and grabbing the keys on his way out the door.

“You don’t know the route and you’re stronger than Nicky. I’m going to need your help getting Neil to the car in a minute.”

“Can walk,” Neil argued. Aaron gave him a dry look. 

“Shut up, idiot. Kevin,  _ go _ .” As soon as Kevin left to find a pen and paper, Aaron’s face became more neutral, almost even pleasant, like he was no longer self conscious of acting like a medical professional. Neil wished he had the energy to poke fun at his performance anxiety.

“Will you lie down?” he asked.  _ Asked _ . Neil let himself list to the side and onto his back and groaned at the added pressure to his stomach. “I want to lift your shirt and do a preliminary exam while we wait for them to be ready.”

It almost sounded like he was about to follow up with a  _ yes or no _ for permission but he just waited with that neutral expression. When Neil took too long to respond, mind sloshing around the anxieties and reluctances of what it meant, Aaron sighed. “Nobody is here to see your shit and I don’t give a fuck what you look like. Let me do this now so I can have something to tell the doctor or they’re going to just go in doing the same shit blindly. It can actually be helpful.”

Neil made an affirmative sound. Laying down was so much worse he could barely think past the pain anymore. He was no help at all as Aaron shoved and pulled his shirt up to his armpits. To his credit, he barely paused at the scars and didn’t comment.

His hands were cool and dry as they began pressing and dragging over his abdomen. Neil stared at his face hard, desperately trying to pretend it was Andrew and breath through it. Aaron’s eyes were glued to the fabric of the couch, far off as he focused on whatever he was doing. At one point, he pressed near Neil’s belly button and looked at his face when he released. Neil didn’t know what he was looking for but he almost looked disappointed when he found nothing. 

“Have you had gas?” he asked in his neutral doctor voice. Neil shook his head. Aaron’s hands began to press closer to his ribs and he felt his body begin to tense involuntarily. Whatever sound that he made had Aaron’s hands pausing before continuing on lighter and with more purpose. Neil focused on the wrinkle between his eyebrows and tried to breathe slowly. At a particularly specific  _ press _ , his body bowed and he cursed loudly. So did Aaron. 

“Alright. Okay. Fuck, shit. Raise your right leg and then your left.” Neil did so with some difficulty. It was almost worse to put them back down, he wanted to curl up with them close to his body. Aaron put his forearm across Neil’s knees and told him to do it again. 

“ _ Fuck you _ ,” he shouted at the pain it caused.

“ _ Fuck you _ ,” Aaron yelled back. He took a deep breath, tugged Neil’s shirt back down, and ran both of his hands through his hair. He didn’t say sorry because he was a Minyard but he did compose himself a step further than he had before like overcompensating would take back his reaction.

“Fun?” Neil asked because riling Aaron up was a distraction but forming a whole sentence was difficult. What he meant to say was  _ Did you learn anything or do you just enjoy torturing me? _ His point got across if the flicker in Aaron’s facade was anything to go by but he held strong. 

“Can you sit up on your own?” He asked too evenly instead of giving an answer. Neil closed his eyes and was able to get his elbows under him before the entire couch began to tilt. He paused and held his breath until it stopped and tried again. “Is it the pain or do you feel faint?” Aaron asked. He used an arm around Neil’s shoulders to push him up slowly.

“Both,” he said and opened his eyes. Through some clearing black spots he could see Kevin sitting on the arm of the chair with his back turned respectfully. He got up when Aaron gave him the all clear and came to squat at Neil’s side.

It was very uncomfortable for everyone involved- Neil with his pain, Kevin carrying him like a bride, and Aaron directing the circus into the back of the clown car. Nicky chewed on his nails as he watched them through the rear view mirror. Neil was strapped into the middle seat with the lap belt between the two and leaned forward, hands on the back of the driver’s seat and eyes pressed into his knuckles. He felt like he already had car sickness before they got to the end of the street. 

“No, take a right,” Aaron directed. “Go to the ER.”

“ _ What _ ? I thought we were just going to the walk-in, why are we going to the hospital? What’s going on?”

“Just  _ go _ Nicky,” Aaron snapped.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“ _ I don’t know! _ ” Aaron yelled. Neil shrank back away from the anger, shoulder bumping into Kevin. The yelling, the anger, the stomach pain, the driving. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be in a car. This was how it always happened, every time he relived that day in his dreams.

A wound you couldn’t see. Dying in a car on a highway. Shouting. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to die. He needed to get out of the car. He needed to see Andrew. He needed to stop the bleeding. He needed to stop the car, pull over, she’s not breathing,  _ mom, mom wake up! _

“Neil, Neil, it’s  _ okay _ , you’re going to be okay! Kevin,  _ help me _ , I’m  _ driving _ .” 

“Wh- I don’t-” A large hand cupped Neil’s cheek and jaw. Neil let the gentle tug pull him sideways to lean against Kevin’s chest. He patted Neil’s shoulder awkwardly as if to say  _ there there _ . The ridiculousness of it helped more than the action itself. Kevin and his Kevin-ness, who cared for his friends somewhere deep down and never learned to show it. Not that any of them were much better, but Kevin’s brand of platonic ineptitude was unique. 

“I swear to god, tell me why we have to go to the hospital instead of the walk-in or I’m going to have my  _ own _ panic attack,” Nicky lamented. Aaron gave a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t  _ know _ . We just  _ do _ ,” he said. 

“Aaron, you’re  _ smart _ . Stop second guessing yourself. You said this morning that you thought it was food poisoning or his appendix or something. 

“It’s not- I don’t think it’s his appendix anymore. Maybe his gallbladder or pancreas?”

“Is that serious? Is it worse? Are those organs we can live without?”

“It’s serious when he gets this bad this fast. He wasn’t sick at all yesterday.”

“He hadn’t eaten, though. Is that a cause? A symptom?”

“A symptom, I’d say. It’s just… it’s just so  _ fast _ . I mean, one day?”

“He hasn’t been eating right for  _ weeks _ .” 

“Months,” Kevin interjected. The vibrations from his chest startled Neil, who was struggling to stay tuned in to the conversation. “Remember Christmas at Abby’s? That’s when I noticed it. He said he just didn’t really feel like eating some days- something about how it was before?”

“I’m surrounded by  _ fucking idiots _ ,” Aaron snarled. “If he wasn’t like that his first year it has nothing to do with  _ before _ ,” he said with disdain. “So what you’re telling me is that this could have been happening for seven months. No wonder he’s out of his fucking mind! His pancreas is probably fucking digesting itself!”

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” Nicky moaned. “Has anybody tried calling Andrew again? Maybe he’s realized his phone is dead and plugged it in- he’s got that car charger.”

“He hasn’t realized,” Aaron said as he pulled out his phone to try anyway. “He’s not going to figure it out unless he needs to text or call first. And how many times has he done  _ that _ ?” He put his phone up to his ear for all of ten seconds before slamming it down onto his thigh with a curse. 

Neil turned his face into Kevin’s shoulder and let out a shaky sigh.

He sort of remembered arriving at the hospital. He remembered stumbling out of the car and his vision going black around the edges. He remembered being in a wheelchair in the waiting room. He remembered Not-Andrew coming with him to a room and helping him to put on a gown and sit in a bed that had cold sheets and side bars like a crib.

Neil ran his hands along the softly textured plastic until it was gently grabbed by a woman with curly brown hair and a smile. He jumped and snatched his hand to his chest.

“You need to broadcast your intentions with him. He’s flighty and stubborn and doesn’t like strangers,” Not-Andrew said. Neil lolled his head to look at him and remembered that they didn’t get along. 

“Fuck you midget,” he slurred. The nurse made a surprised face but otherwise didn’t react.

“He’ll do that, too, volatile imbecile.” 

“Well. Let’s try this again,” said the nurse. She stood in Neil’s line of sight so he couldn’t see Aaron anymore. “Mr. Josten, do you remember where you are and why you’re here?”

“Hos’pal. ‘M digesting myself?” he’s pretty sure that’s what he heard before.

“You are at that hospital, that’s right, and you are very sick. My name is Tammy and I’d like to attach an I.V. to your hand so we can start re-hydrating you and maybe do some pain management. Is that something I can do?”

Neil stared at Tammy for a long minute. She had a kind, patient face like Abby. Andrew was at Abby’s. Andrew told him to do what Aaron said. The word  _ deal _ echoed in his brain. Had he made a deal to do that? He couldn’t break a deal.

“Aaron?” he called, craning his neck to see around Tammy.

“Let her do it. You’ll feel better,” he said. That didn’t seem likely but he held out his hand in permission anyway. He even let her put a plastic tube on his face because he was feeling pragmatic. 

“Yea, you’re a real saint, Josten.”

Neil flipped him off and relaxed into his pillows. He listened to the voices in the room, oddly content to let the world revolve without him. He recognized the voices as Not-Andrew and Not-Abby. They talked a lot but he couldn’t follow their conversation. Somebody touched his stomach again but the pain was more dull than sharp and alarming. 

“- _ Josten _ ?”

“Hm?” Neil opened his eyes and immediately closed them again against the brightness of the new room. He hadn’t even realized that they had taken him somewhere else. Where was he? How far had they gotten him? How long had it been?

“Relax. It’s barely been twenty minutes. We’re in radiology so you can get a CT scan. They want you to drink a contrast.” Neil waved his hand that had the I.V. attached. “No, you have to drink it so they can see your digestive tract.”

“Throw up,” Neil said.

“Try.” Hmph. Well. Aaron said so and that was the deal. He willed himself awake enough to take the cup from Tammy. Not three sips in he waved for something,  _ anything _ to empty his stomach into. It was worse than before, curled on his side over the edge of his bed, body seizing and moving on its own. The pain that had started to subside with the I.V. roared back worse than ever.

It was odd, like an out of body experience. When he was done being sick, collapsed with his cheekbone hooked on the corner of the bed, he knew that everything was bad and wrong. He knew that he wanted to curl up in a ball and close his eyes until it was all over. But he was pushed onto his back and prodded and patted with a cloth and he just… let it happen. Aaron said things to him and so did the nurse and he watched their lips as they spoke and heard their words without comprehension. 

“-hesitant to give him more…”

“-pupils… stimuli…”

“-blood pressure…”

Neil turned his head and watched Aaron off to the side. He was only speaking when directly addressed, arms crossed self-consciously as he leaned against the wall and out of the way. Neil didn’t know who else was talking. Why weren’t they talking to Aaron? He was… he was  _ smart _ . Nicky said he was  _ smart _ Andrew said-

“-awareness… responsive…”

He reached out to point at Aaron. That was good enough. 

“-ster Minyard? You seem… history…”

Aaron looked surprised to be asked whatever they had asked. “-just pre-med… Palmetto clinic… volunteering…”

Funny. Neil’s body acted according to the pain but he couldn’t actually feel it anymore. He couldn’t feel much of anything. It was like his emotions had made room in their little cardboard boxes in the attic of his mind and allowed the pain to settle in. Part of him knew that was bad- he wasn’t supposed to do that anymore- but the packing tape was out of his hands. He stared at Aaron, felt nothing, and listened. He breathed. He willed himself to come back. 

Aaron chewed on his thumb-nail and then wiped his palms on his jeans awkwardly. “He’s being treated for PTSD. Maybe a… some sort of parasympathetic response to the pain and loss of function? I wouldn’t be surprised if he was prone to dissociative symptoms.”

Neil curled his hand into a thumbs up against his chest. He had no idea what any of those words meant but Tammy reacted to them. She said “You’re only pre-med?” in a way that made Aaron look away and blush. Then she said, “He’s currently being treated? Has he recently experienced anything that could have caused RUQ trauma?”

“It’s… possible but not from what I remember. My brother or his therapist would… would know… Excuse me.”

Neil’s eyes tracked Aaron as he skirted around the edge of the room and out the door. It hadn’t yet closed before he exploded with “ _ We’re all fucking idiots! _ ”

And then he was alone with Tammy and someone he couldn’t see and a growing awareness. Whoever the other person was fiddled with the I.V. and adjusted Neil onto his back talking about contrasts and acronyms he didn’t recognize. 

“Neil, are you with me?” Tammy asked. Her face was the only thing in his line of sight. He nodded. He breathed. Puzzle pieces of the world came back to make a full picture, the bright whites taking on their natural shadows to make furniture and machines. He counted and breathed and pushed himself to stay present, stay here, stay aware. He couldn’t afford to lose himself to… to  _ whatever _ that was. He was alone with these strangers. 

“Is that a CAT scan?” he asked with a head nudge at the big grey donut thing. He had been in that. It made noise. They made him lie down. Lying down hurt. A voice kept telling him to keep still.

Tammy seemed pleased at his cognizance and flashed a pen light in both of his eyes as she spoke. “Yes, it is. We tried to get some imaging done of your abdomen. Dr. Bransette is setting you up for your EUS now. Do you remember what that is?”

Neil didn’t know what that was or who Bransette was. He didn’t like not knowing. He didn’t like these things happening without him knowing. This was a  _ hospital  _ and all they managed so far was to make him feel even more anxious. He shook his head. They were taking him out of the room and into another that was just as plain and filled with confusing instruments and machines that he didn’t recognize. 

Tammy was explaining something about a camera and ultrasound and his pancreas. Neil felt himself have a smidge of pride that Aaron had suspected that but he finally had the wherewithal to tamp down the infernal fever thoughts of approval. Whatever was in the I.V. must have been working. Maybe he was getting better. He said so to Tammy and the other nurse in the room gave a pitying smile.

“Neil,” Tammy said slowly, like he wouldn’t understand. “You came in to the emergency room with acute pancreatitis. You are being treated for the pain and we’re going to use this procedure to figure out the exact cause and create a treatment plan. Nod if you understand.” 

Why was she speaking to him like an idiot? Why hadn’t Aaron come back? He was- he was feeling better, he could leave, he was fine. Why were there sticky wires on his chest? He tried to grab his arm away from a person trying to do something to him and watched as his hand flopped uselessly. They did it anyway, clipped something on his finger tip. 

“...much sedative?”

“-should be out… tooth guard…”

Sedatives were… sedatives were  _ bad _ . Anyone could do anything, take you anywhere. Neil tried to sit up but it was futile against the hands rolling him onto his side. He tried to yell but couldn’t past the plastic bit snug against his teeth. There was a man there, older, talking, reaching. Neil grabbed his sleeve to stop him. He could feel his consciousness slipping no matter how hard he tried. It wasn’t blood loss or blood sugar- he knew those intimately. This was something else. This was falling asleep too fast. It wasn’t natural. It was dangerous. It was scary. He didn’t want to die-

He… he was aware. Possibly. He had thoughts and those thoughts circled around his own awareness for some time. There was a hand in his hair. He knew that feeling so, so well. He was aware.  _ It’s going to be alright, baby _ . Would it, mom? Miss Leon would be so worried when he didn’t go to school. She suspected. 

No. That wasn’t right. Miss Leon hadn’t been his teacher for years. Second grade. She had been his favorite. He still thought about her sometime. This must be Kirchberg, the most comfortable bed in Luxembourg, which was good when you get the flu. No that- that wasn’t right either. Mom had been  _ so mad _ at him for that, like it was his fault. The hand in his hair wasn’t pulling or hitting, it was rubbing. He told the hand that it wasn’t his mother. The hand responded  _ I would hope not _ . 

It was so, so bright. White bright. There was a shadow at the edge of the brightness. He knew that shadow. He wished he could open his eyes and see the face making the shadow but he couldn’t look away from the brightness. He could imagine Andrew so vividly against that bright light, light bright. Was this what his mother saw?

A wound you couldn’t see, a car on the highway, shouting. No. There wasn’t shouting anymore. Just light and a shadow and a face and a pain and a fear that he wasn’t going to see that face again. Who had mom seen? Had she seen Andrew, too? Had she been this scared? Had it hurt this much and this long? Had she been this paralyzed, staring at the light with closed eyes and seeing the most important person in the world? Did everyone see Andrew when they died? 


	2. Andrew in the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew does not get a call

Andrew flexed his toes, arches balanced on Bee’s coffee table. It had been years since he’d last worn ankle socks and even longer since he’d worn clothes like these. His bare ankles on display felt weird but not bad. 

“How long did you shop?” Bee asked. 

If Andrew gave it enough thought, he could tell her exactly how many minutes. “Over an hour,” he said instead.

“Did you find everything you needed?”

“I didn’t need anything,” he said.

Bee nodded with a small smile. “Had you planned on taking Neil there?” She asked it like she already knew the answer. She probably did, after all these years. But she also had a thing about making him talk about it anyway. Therapists. Go figure. 

“No. We were just going to drive but I didn’t see the point of that.” He had driven around for a short while, but reality had clashed too much with the expectations he’d held for the past week. 

“So you went to the mall because you were bored,” Bee guessed. She wasn’t completely wrong, only mostly.

“To see if I could,” he said. He knocked his bare knees together. It made Bee smile proudly.

“I didn’t want to say anything about them first but it’s nice to see you experiment with clothing. Especially with the summers we get here. Was there something that sparked the change today?”

“Neil likes them.” Bee’s smile turned into a smirk before she quickly schooled it back into professionalism. “I was going to wear them anyway, it was a pain to find something else.” It was a transparent excuse that Bee could easily see through. He had still worn them for that one reason, it was just convenient that one became two. “I figured the mall in a college town on a Wednesday would be deserted with no students around.”

“Was it?”

“Mostly.”

“And how did it go?”

Andrew flexed his toes again and spread them until his socks looked like rectangles. “Well. I bought another pair and some shoes and walked through a department store.”

“That’s really good, Andrew,” Bee praised. It sounded genuine and settled down in Andrew’s stomach like a satisfying bite of honey cake. “Especially so since you hadn’t planned for it.” 

“The spontaneity helped. I couldn’t fixate on it.”

“Did you become preoccupied by your outfit at all while you were there?”

He breathed hard through his nose. “Once. Walking through the food court. But it was time to come here anyway so I left.”

Bee wrote down a quick note with a nod. “You bought a second pair, though, so are you optimistic about trying again?”

“I hadn’t meant to try anything in the first place,” he dodged. Bee didn’t let him get away with that, of course. 

“Did you buy them because Neil likes them on you?”

“They’re a good way to shut him up. He’s got a calf fetish or something.” This time, Bee laughed. 

“I’m sure the thought will make him feel better. How is he, by the way? Elias has asked after him and I’ll admit I’m concerned myself.”

A glance at the clock told Andrew that their official appointment, Bee’s last of the day, was over by six minutes. Good ole Bee, looking for gossip as soon as they didn’t need to be professional anymore. The predictability was comforting. 

“He should be fine.” Probably was, since he hadn’t gotten any texts about it. Andrew suspected he was sleeping the day away since neither Aaron or Kevin had called to complain, either. “He probably just has a stomach bug, but I’m going to talk to him about going to a doctor if he’s not better by tomorrow.” The meal skipping wasn’t often or severe, Neil hadn’t lost any weight or anything, but combining it with how he felt that morning was cause enough for at least a check up.

“And you felt okay leaving him alone?”

So maybe appointment Bee was bleeding over into gossip Bee. His overprotective habits had been a major talking point since the beginning, since Nicky. She knew any family member in a state that wasn’t self afflicted often precluded his ability to exhibit reason in ways that he should. 

“I made a deal with Aaron to keep an eye on him,” he explained. That was obviously not what she’d expected to hear but she was skilled enough not to be obvious about it. She waved her fingers for him to elaborate. “I told him that if he took care of Neil then he could invite the cheerleader to the house for a weekend.”

Bee’s continued surprise was almost palpable at this point but still she did not react. In fact, it took her a long moment before she spoke again. 

“That is… a great deal of trust you are showing Aaron.”

_ Was not _ . “Neil is not that sick. Without Exy to motivate him, any temp above 99 renders him completely incompetent. Aaron watching out for him is merely a precaution so that he does not attempt anything stupid. Which he will.”

“Ah, so you are not really displaying any trust in your brother,” Bee said. Andrew made a conceding gesture with his hand. “Given your usual feelings toward Aaron’s relationship, it seems like a mighty sacrificial deal to make for no reason.”

Andrew paused. Waited. He didn’t freeze. Bee tried to hide her smile but she was not successful. No. Using the cheerleader as a bargaining chip was just to compel Aaron into actually  _ keeping _ a deal for once. God knows how annoying Neil would be today. He couldn’t take medicine on a good day without food and how he was with a fever would only add to the frustration. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll drop it since  _ technically _ our appointment is over,” Bee said. “Are you still coming for dinner?”

Andrew shook his head and dropped his feet to shove them back into the still-tied sneakers. Neil hated when he did that. “I should get back before somebody commits homicide.”

“I’m sure they can spare you for an extra forty five minutes. Abby is making your favorite pizza. She practiced and everything.”

“Why on Earth would anybody  _ practice _ making pizza for two college kids?” he asked. 

Bee shrugged and smiled in a way that said she thought the gesture was sweet. “You and I both know how she is with baking anything. I think she just wanted to make sure it came out good since Neil asked for it specifically. And how often does Neil ask for anything?” 

Andrew looked to the glass figurines and busied his hands with pulling up the heels of his Neil’s sneakers. “I’ll grab some to go,” he compromised. Neil would never let him hear the end of it if he skipped out entirely.

Bee smiled and was only just pulling out her purse when her phone rang. Andrew paused in consideration as she rushed to dig it out- she kept it on Do Not Disturb during sessions and calls only came through when the person called twice in a row. Andrew took his own out of his front pocket to badly pretend that he wasn’t listening (a courtesy he only offered because it was Bee) and frowned when he opened it to a black screen.

“Hel- hold on, hold on. Aaron?”

Andrew’s head shot up. He was already up and stepping on the coffee table to grab the phone and Bee met him half way to hand it over. 

“What’s wrong with him,” he said. Because he knew. He fucking knew.

“Jesus Christ, Andrew, your fucking  _ phone _ ,” Aaron said over the line.

“ _ What happened to him _ ,” Andrew said. Controlled, controlled, even, flat. 

“I- we brought him to the hospital. I wasn’t- It seemed-” He breathed like he’d just run a marathon and Andrew was quickly losing the last fumes of his patience. Self doubt had always turned Aaron into a bumbling fool that was completely at odds from his usually brash and temperamental self. 

“Finish a god damn sentence. What. Is. Wrong.”

A deep breath. There was chatter in the background. “Neil was taking a turn so I decided we needed to take him to the emergency room. He just had a CT scan that showed some pancreatitis and they’re prepping him for an E- for another procedure to get a better look.”

“Which hospital.” As soon as Aaron told him, Andrew hung up and handed the phone back to Bee on his way to the door. 

“Freeze,” she said before he could touch the knob. For some reason, he did. Maybe it was the tone. Maybe it was the whisper buried deep in the blankets of apathy wrapped around him, a whisper that wanted to hear some form of reassurance. He layered another blanket and felt nothing. She would be disappointed to know he was giving in to something they had been working against for so long. He didn’t care. 

“There is someone waiting for you and driving recklessly is not a solution. Be safe. I’ll get David and Abby and we’ll meet you in Columbia.”

“That is not necessary,” he said, voice dead even to his own ears. He grabbed the doorknob and squeezed. 

“Hospitals are confusing and overwhelming, even for adults. I am not about to let a bunch of children under twenty five attempt to navigate a medical emergency alone.”

“I am not a child.” Andrew threw a cold look over his shoulder and was met with defiance. 

“You are to somebody.”

He tucked that away to examine later and left. It was hot out, but not as hot as it could be. Not hot enough for him to find the shorts a necessity. They were not a necessity. They were frivolous. They were ridiculous. The backs of his knees stuck painfully to the burning black leather of the Maserati. Another frivolous thing. All these  _ things _ that were not necessary that he had anyway. He hated them. He wanted to destroy them. He hated how his shin felt bumping against the center console. He hated how easily the car could tear the highway apart. He hated the voices echoing over and over in his head.  _ There is someone waiting for you. Be safe. Hospital. Hospital. Be safe. Someone waiting for you. Someone waiting for you. There is someone waiting for you.  _

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Andrew shouted, one hand coming to slam painfully on the steering wheel. He rolled down the windows, cranked the air conditioner, and turned up the music. If a tree falls in the forest, and all that. The noise did not stop his mind from repeating the words and freezing his kneecaps did nothing to stop the backs from sweating. 

_ Someone waiting for you _ . How long had he been waiting? Andrew plugged the phone in to the car charger as he circled the on ramp onto the highway. Only then did he realize it was Neil’s phone, the buttons with less ware and a scratch on the back from a careless drop. It turned on as he merged and showed missed calls from Nicky and Aaron. The first one. Nicky. He had been in the shoe store at that minute, grabbing a pair of orange, fox-shaped socks as he waited in line to buy his own pair of grey Keds. 

The past cannot be altered and therefore there was no point in wasting energy regretting it.

It went like this. A Spring heat wave gave him a heat rash. Nicky had bought him shorts. Neil had stared at his calves for an entire afternoon. They had kissed until two in the morning. Andrew had let Neil touch his legs for the first time. It was good.

It went like this. The court floor was being waxed and Wymack was sick of them. He told them to leave town for one week. Argue and it will be two. Kevin and Neil argued. 

It went like this. Andrew needed a break from the house and they needed to go to their therapy appointments. He wanted to take Neil away. He put his outfit on top of their shared duffel with his and Neil’s wallets. With his and Neil’s phones. 

It went like this. Neil had a stomach bug and Andrew did not want to stay in that house one more minute doing the same thing he’d done every day that week. He did not need permission but got it anyway. He did not need a deal but he made one anyway. He grabbed his shorts and Neil’s shoes. He grabbed his wallet and Neil’s phone. 

_ Someone waiting for you _ . 

He turned down the music and rolled up the windows. 

_ Be safe _ . 

He engaged cruise control and pressed speed dial.

“Andrew?” Kevin answered. Did  _ nobody _ have their own phone today? 

“Tell me everything,” he demanded. It didn’t matter who, just that they got the job done.

“I thought you already talked to Aaron,” Kevin said. 

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

There was shuffling over the line. “Okay, uh. So Neil was really out of it. And I bought a thermometer and he had a temp around 102 and like, Andrew, he was really out of it and refusing to lay down and watching some cooking show it was so weird.”

“Relevance,” Andrew interjected.

“Right, yeah. Aaron was making this special recipe? And Neil kept zoning out and then he started to panic and then  _ Nicky _ started to panic and while we were getting ready to go to the clinic Aaron did some sort of ab exam and they yelled at each other and we went to the hospital instead.”

It was as Kevin was going over  _ everything _ that Andrew realized he didn’t actually care about hearing everything. He wanted to already know, to have this information already in his brain, so that he could determine for himself what was important. He grit his teeth and waited. The drive was long and there was nothing else he could do.

“He was even more out of it when we got here, they barely made us wait to check him in. Nicky had to argue with the receptionist because you’re his emergency contact but since he doesn't have any family here they let Aaron go back because when he wasn’t zoned out he was freaking out at all of the nurses which-  _ Jesus _ Andrew, how close are you?”

“Finish.”

“I don’t know! I guess he got a CT scan and now they’re going to do something with a camera down his throat. Aaron tried to explain it but he’s been in this weird mood since we got here and I don’t understand half of the jargon he spewed.”

“ _ Fuck you, Day _ ,” Aaron snapped in the background. 

“ _ Shut up _ ,” Kevin snarled away from the phone and then came back. “It’s his pancreas, apparently. It’s swollen which we already suspected-”

“ _ You didn’t do shit _ .”

“Oh, fine, which out  _ revered _ Dr. Minyard figured out but refused to say because he has self-esteem issues. Does that  _ sound more accurate _ ?”

It did, actually.

“Hey, Andrew,” Nicky said. Andrew didn’t greet him. “Those two are going to go let off some steam outside. The receptionist is getting angry with them.” 

“The same one you yelled at?” he asked. He needed to know what obstacles he would need to get through when he arrived. 

“Ah, no, that had been at the emergency entrance. Radiology has its own waiting area so we moved here. Neil should be getting his exam soon and they said it can take as long as forty minutes. He’ll probably be in recovery when you get here which is good. No waiting, right?”

_ Somebody waiting for you _ . 

“Why does he need to recover? Kevin said it was a camera.”

“He has to be sedated for it. At least, I’m pretty sure. Abby had called Kevin and I was talking to her when this all went down. Did you know she’s coming down, too?” He did know and didn’t care and was thirty seconds from stapling everyone's phone to their own palms. “Um, yea, she said it’s pretty standard to need recovery time after sedation. Remember that room they put you in after your wisdom teeth? I think it’s like that. He’s not getting cut open or anything, don’t worry.”

_ Don’t worry. Don’t worry. Be safe. Hospital. Hospital. There is someone waiting for you _ . 

Andrew hung up the phone because he was done listening. He turned the radio back up and rolled the windows back down and disengage cruise control. He pressed the gas. 

_ Someone waiting for you _ .

The hospital was right off the highway one exit after Sweeties. The only thing stopping Andrew from parking in front of the door was keeping the car from being towed so that he could drive Neil home. Instead, he parked next to Kevin’s car and went in.

The woman behind the front desk did a double take when she saw him and made a sour face. Good. If she remembered his face she remembered Nicky and he would not need to explain himself.

“Where is radiology?” he asked. 

Wishful fucking thinking.

“Sir, I’m going to need some I.D.”

He had to give his reason for the visit, sign a sheet, and show his I.D. before she told him how to get there. It was a long, convoluted route and he had no trouble following her directions but every long hallway he faced sent his blood pressure higher. No hospital had ever been properly designed. 

The sign for radiology was still a hallway off a hallway before it opened to a small waiting room of eight wooden chairs and too many magazines on the table. Nicky was the first to notice him and jumped up. He got halfway to a hug and thought better of it. 

“Andrew! That was so fast!”

“Where is he?”

Aaron and Kevin stood and Andrew turned away from them to approach the reception counter. Nicky followed. 

“Aaron, Aaron, that’s her, the nurse! What’s her name?”

“Tammy,” Aaron said. 

“Tammy!” Nicky called. The receptionist glowered and shushed him. Behind her was a short brunette in grey-blue scrubs that looked up from where she was leaning over a chair and typing on a computer. Nicky used both of his hands to point excitedly at Andrew. Tammy came through the door next to the counter and immediately held out her hand. 

“Andrew Minyard, I presume?”

He did not meet the gesture, just her eyes. Whatever she had heard or experienced that day, she did not react or take it as a slight. 

“I was actually on my way out to tell you all that Dr. Bransette is finishing up with Neil right now. They should be moving him to a recovery room any minute.”

“Where,” Andrew said. Tammy gave a placating smile. 

“I’ll take you straight to him in a little while. I just want to-”

“No.”

“Um, Tammy? Is waiting really necessary?” Nicky asked. “Because I don’t know how awful Neil has been for you so far but I can guarantee that he will be ten times worse if he knows you kept them apart. Not to mention  _ this _ cherub.”

“I’m his POA,” Andrew said to speed things along. “It should be in his file.”

“It is,” Tammy smiled. “And I was going to agree with Mr. Hemmick. I would like a word, however, before I bring you to him. He won’t be conscious for a bit and there are things I would like to discuss with you.” She gave him a look that Andrew returned with a single dip of his chin and followed her down to a partitioned area attached to the reception counter. 

Behind him, he heard Kevin asking,  _ “What’s a POA _ ?” and Nicky responding,  _ “Power of attorney. Makes sense since Neil doesn’t have any family. Kinda romantic _ . _ Good, too, if he’s as out of it as Aaron says. _ ”

Tammy went through a door to come and sit at a computer opposite Andrew. 

“Andrew Minyard, partner to Neil Josten,” she confirmed. He gave no response and she continued a beat later, explaining to him the scan Neil had, the procedure he was just finishing, and asking predictable questions. 

_ Does Neil have a family history of such and such? _ Who knows, he didn’t have access to healthcare for eight years.  _ Has he presented any of such and such symptoms _ ? Occasional loss of appetite but his frame of reference is too skewed to acknowledge any other possible symptoms.  _ Has he experienced any trauma to the such and such area in the past such and such months? _ Kicked in the ribs last spring.

Andrew struggled against a memory of purple and green mottled skin. Plastic bags. Wet clothes. Sharp tongue. Sharp hip bone. The nurse didn’t blink an eye, just typed a note and moved on like it wasn’t obvious that he was losing control. Andrew breathed heavily through his nose.  _ Confusing and overwhelming and overwhelming and overwhelming kids under twenty five confusing and overwhelming _ . He gripped the arm of the chair. Enough. 

“Alright, let’s go see how our firecracker is doing,” Tammy said. Finally, she’d said something agreeable. Things couldn’t be all that bad if Neil had been making those kinds of impressions. He followed Tammy through the door and to a small, plain room.

It was a room meant for leaving, free of generic hospital decorations and windows. Just a bed, some monitors, a chair, and a body. Andrew wasn’t sure he would ever leave this room meant for leaving. He went straight to Neil and looked, observed, absorbed, remembered. Wires, tubes, an I.V. and pulse monitor on his far hand, oxygen under his nose. He was sleeping, flat on his back. He hated sleeping on his back. 

Andrew tracked Tammy’s movements in his periphery as she approached to check the chart hooked on the end of the bed. He felt coiled like a snake, impatient and ready to strike if they weren’t left alone. _Overwhelming_ _overwhelming overwhelming_ , Bee’s voice echoed in his brain like a broken record he couldn’t stop. He reached for another blanket of apathy, something he had struggled so long to shed and now could barely pull around himself.

“Everything seems in order,” Tammy said. “Dr. Bransette will come in when Neil is awake to discuss the test results and talk about treatment options. Is there anything I can get you until then?”

“Is Bransette a man?” Andrew asked. Tammy puffed at the shoulders like a defensive owl and confirmed in a tight voice. _ Attempt to navigate a medical emergency alone. _ “Do not send him in. Come in yourself or speak with Abigail Winfield when she arrives.”

Tammy deflated almost immediately and nodded before leaving. 

Finally.

Finally, finally alone. 

_ There is someone waiting for you _ . 

Now it was his turn to wait. Andrew sat in the chair, pulled it up until his bare knees were wedged against the metal and plastic siding of Neil’s bed. There was a sense of  _ now what _ jumbling with something else that threatened to send a shiver down to his fingers- a vile, loathsome reaction. 

For so long he had tried to feel something,  _ anything _ , and now there was little he wouldn’t do to stop it all. Looking at Neil, listening to the steady beeping of the machines, sent a vivid image into his mind of stumbling at the edge of the roof. It wasn’t falling, it was the threat of falling. It was the split second of terror before you realized you were okay, you were safe. 

He hated Neil. He hated that there was nothing to do and nowhere to direct his pointless anger but circumstances and maybe some genetics.

The smell of alcohol, sweat, loud music, blue eyes, flashing lights.  _ I’m self-destructive, not stupid. I know better _ . He had known better and he had been right and he had done it all anyway.

The past cannot be altered and therefore there was no point in wasting energy regretting it, no matter the current situation. 

It went like this. Andrew took Neil’s limp hand into his own and threaded the other into his tangled hair. 

It went like this. He rubbed his fingers against Neil’s scalp and did not stop even after the hand in his softly, softly gripped back. 

Andrew had grown into an impressive penchant for patience over the years. Maybe he leaned too hard on unhealthy habits at the moment, but they got the job done. He remained completely still apart from the hand in Neil’s hair, slouched over his shoulder to make quiet promises as the heart monitor stuttered and picked up ever so slightly. Neil let out a sound. Andrew drew his thumb over his brow and pushed back his hair. 

“Y’r not mum,” Neil croaked. 

“I would hope not,” Andrew responded. 

When Neil’s eyes opened, it was like stumbling on the edge of a roof and falling, falling, falling. He didn’t look at Andrew, just stared blankly up at the ceiling light with unseeing eyes. The room was dim compared to the rest of the hospital, but looking straight into a light couldn’t be comfortable. Andrew leaned over further, tried to draw those eyes to him instead.

“I see you,” Neil said after a while, voice cracking. Andrew looked around and saw a plastic cup of half melted ice chips on the side table. He fished one out with his fingers and pushed it into Neil’s mouth. He sucked on it blissfully, eyes focusing on Andrew’s. He opened his mouth and Andrew put in another ice chip. 

“Can’t you go one year without being a victim,” he chided in a flat voice.

Neil drew in a shaking breath, face pulling and eyes pinching at the corners. His jaw trembled and his chapped lips stuttered around words that barely came out. 

“Not ‘llowed to be mean,” he moaned. “‘m’too scared. Don’wanna- I don’t want to die.”

Andrew hid his sneer in Neil’s knuckles, pressed his lips hard to the knobby bones until it hurt. He turned the gesture into a squashed kiss.

“You’re not going to die,” he reassured. 

“‘S’wha happ’ned t’mom.”

Andrew shook his head and squeezed a handful of Neil’s curls. The motion of his chin moved Neil’s hand in turn. “Your mother had blunt force trauma. You have a swollen pancreas. You’re not going to die.”

Neil breathed hard for a few moments, eyes frozen on Andrew and unblinking. Then they moved about his face. He breathed and blinked and squeezed Andrew’s hand harder. Consciousness dawned slowly, recognition slower. For a long while, they did nothing but stare at each other. Occasionally, Andrew pressed an ice chip into his mouth and then twirled a curl with his wet fingers. 

“Stuff… in’m’mouth,” Neil said. He brought his I.V. hand up to clumsily bump at his teeth. 

“They put a camera in your stomach,” Andrew said. Next, Neil touched his forehead, fingers brushing against Andrew’s in his hair. 

“Sleep’d… bad sleep. Bad sleep.” His breathing picked up again, shallow and quick, and the heart monitor did as well. Not enough to draw attention from the staff, but enough for Andrew to notice. 

“Awake,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know what was going on in Neil’s brain in this state. He didn’t know if it was the fever or sedation or the pain medication or  _ what _ and the not-knowing theme of the day was getting old. 

“Things keep happ’ning,” Neil complained. Andrew nodded once in acknowledgment. “I don- I don’t like it. Don’ understand.” He brought their joined hands up in one clumsy, swinging motion. “Th… they do stuff t’me. I don’ understand. Can’t ‘member.”

“That’s probably your fever,” Andrew said even though he wasn’t sure that was the truth. “You know how you get with a fever.”

Neil made an indignant face, a relief from the blankness and distress. “M’not  _ use _ -less. I’ve done- I’ve done  _ every _ thin’ with a fever. I c’n do  _ so many things _ . Watch  _ this _ .” He tried to put his elbows underneath himself to push up but Andrew kept him down with an arm draped over his chest. “I  _ can _ . Let me. I can do things. M’not useless.”

“No,” Andrew agreed. The anger he’d been fighting all day turned inward, finally finding a target. A release. It was an old, familiar feeling but  _ Andrew _ was an old, familiar concept and he knew himself just as well as he did the self-loathing. He knew how to treat himself, now.  _ Are you there, Bee? It’s me, Recovery. _ So he said, “You don’t have to do anything anymore. Not with a fever. Fuck, not with a stubbed toe. I don’t care. Just… rest and get through this so I can take you home.”

Neil’s dry lips pulled into a small smile. His hand lifted, its path unwavering, and he swiped his fingers along Andrew’s mouth until his palm cradled his jaw and his thumb could stroke along his bottom lip. They were quiet. 

Later, when Neil’s eyes were clearer and his words almost articulate, Tammy came back into the room. The only things keeping Andrew sitting and quiet were necessity and Neil’s amiable reaction to her presence. As she checked the monitors and Neil, she spoke in plain English about what they had found. Apparently, the images from the scan hadn’t been very clear because  _ somebody _ was having trouble sitting still and hadn’t been able to keep down the contrast (Neil made an innocent face that fooled absolutely no one). The endoscopic ultrasound, however, had shown not only a rather sizable gallstone, but some scarring and a cyst that they had aspirated. She showed them a few grey images that looked more like Rorschach tests than organs.

“You could call it a chain reaction,” she said, drawing a simple diagram on a pad of paper to illustrate what neither could make sense of in the squiggly ultrasound print-outs. “When the gallstones form, they come down here,” she drew a line in one of the small tubes of the drawing, between two bag looking things, “They cause some irritation to this whole area, bother the pancreas, and then pass through. It’s surprisingly common how many people can have a gallstone without noticing any symptoms. But overtime, this problem repeated, and scar tissue began to build up in the duct.” She thickened the lines of the tube until it was a much more narrow passageway. “That is probably when he began to notice his loss of appetite and possibly a few other minor symptoms as he experienced more frequent inflammation. Eventually, the stricture became bad enough that this stone couldn’t pass.” She drew a little circle in the tube. “This is what led to his acute pancreatitis today.”

“Wouldn’t it be called chronic pancreatitis?” Andrew asked. To him, this sounded like a long term problem. But Tammy made a considering face like she didn’t want to agree with him. 

“Think of it more like chronic gallstones, if anything. Chronic pancreatitis is its own monster and until today the real issue was occurring in his gallbladder.”

“And the cyst?”

Tammy drew a little bump on the longer bag thing. “A pseudocyst, right here, probably because of the repeated inflammation. We did what we could during the EUS but it doesn’t seem to be in any threat of bursting .”

Neil had been uncharacteristically quiet during all of this. Andrew felt himself almost physically shake out of his hyper-focus to turn back to him. He was on his side, knees pulled up, and had their entwined hands tucked up near his cheek. He was asleep. Properly asleep. 

“How will he be treated?” Andrew asked. He slipped his hand away and used it to smooth the hair away from Neil’s forehead and behind his ear. 

“Surgery,” Tammy said. She scribbled out one of the bag things and the scarred tube and connected two different tubes with a single line. “We’ll remove the gallbladder and cyst, mend the stricture, and reattach the duct here.”

“Laparoscopic?”

Again, Tammy made a face. Andrew did not like that she made a face. “Dr. Bransette has suggested laparoscopic surgery, yes. The severe surface scarring in that area makes him worry about the possibility of adhesions. So while laparoscopic surgery is a lower risk of  _ causing _ them, if any are already present there is a small possibility it would need to be converted to open surgery.”

Andrew did need and want to know all of this information but he could feel that a headache was building behind his eyes.  _ Overwhelming _ , Bee’s voice echoed around his brain. Yes. It certainly was. But they were far from over and Neil was not conscious enough in any sense of the word to have this conversation. 

“All of this will help him?”

Tammy put down the pad of paper and smiled in a way that some might call  _ motherly _ . “Can’t form gallstones without a gallbladder. He’ll be better off without his sorry looking one anyway. He’s scheduled for surgery at 10:30 in the morning and if everything goes exactly right he could be out of here as soon as dinnertime.”

“Is that the earliest he can get in?” Andrew asked. He was doing an awful lot of  _ asking _ today. An awful lot of speaking in general.

“It’s about twenty minutes later than the earliest. Given some reactions that Neil had to other staff members and moments during his time here I thought it would be beneficial if I were on shift to assist.”

That was exactly the answer Andrew expected from someone with mom-face. It… was not unappreciated. He hadn’t heard anything about these  _ reactions _ more than passing comments so far but he could guess. Neil was in pain and incapacitated, something difficult enough for someone who  _ hadn’t _ experienced the same traumas at the hands of others. 

_ Overwhelming _ . 

Tammy accompanied them up to Neil’s new room despite mentioning that her shift had ended about thirty minutes go. Andrew woke Neil first with quiet words and a bump to his shoulder and Neil held his hand the whole way. They took a route through the other end of radiology and up a quiet elevator to an even quieter room. She showed Andrew how the seating bench could flatten into a bed, introduced them to the staff, and bid them both goodnight. 

Neil curled up on his side with the tv remote and Andrew took a moment to look out the window. They were only one story up but they had a view of a small garden and the staff parking lot. Aaron was actually out there right now, pacing and talking on the phone. He looked agitated, but calmed as he listened to whoever was on the other line. Andrew did not care about any of this but it was a small distraction- something he needed and wasn’t finding in Neil’s channel surfing. 

For a while, all Aaron was doing was listening. When he spoke, it was in short bursts. Sometimes he would go on and when he did his gait would become stiff and his face would get red. By the time he hung up, the entire area around his eyes and nose were red and raw. Andrew did not feel anything at the sight. It was a small relief. 

Below, Aaron turned once in a circle, hands in his hair, face mottled. He paced away from the hospital and almost immediately snapped to look back at the building. For a split second, Andrew expected him to look up at the window. It was a silly, irrational thought. But no, it was because Tammy had just come out dressed in plain clothes. 

Despite feeling close to midnight, the summer sun was still well above the surrounding buildings and casting a humid glow on the garden. Andrew watched, close enough to the glass that his breath caused it to fog. Tammy was small but still taller than Aaron and no longer on hospital time. Andrew couldn’t see her face but he could see Aaron’s and he could see the way he failed at keeping himself composed. 

Tammy’s hand reached and Andrew’s clenched. She touched Aaron’s shoulder and said something that made his face pinch up and flatten out quickly. When she hugged his brother, Andrew felt a burn in his stomach at the maternal display. He would never understand. He didn’t care to understand. Aaron could be as stupid as he wanted. They no longer had a deal. 

“Do you know what underproved means?” Neil asked. There was a baking show on the television with people making bread. It only took a little bit of mental digging for Andrew to find the answer.

“The bread dough didn’t rise long enough before baking.”

“Oh.” Neil looked slightly confused. “That doesn’t actually sound like me at all.”

“A misshapen airhead with a dense middle? I’d say that’s about right.”

Neil smiled in that way he did when he knew that Andrew was being a dick on purpose. It wasn’t so much the smile that calmed his mind but the clarity of his eyes. He looked present. Aware. Even with the oxygen cannula and I.V. he looked capable for the first time that day.

“Come sit with me, you’ll like this show. They make a lot of sweets.”

Turning away from the window was effortless. 

With a little maneuvering, Andrew and Neil sat side by side in the elevated hospital bed watching people bake. The show wasn’t interesting or entertaining but it was relaxing and Neil watched with his head on Andrew’s shoulder.

Not enough time had past before Aaron came in. His eyes were dry but red rimmed and Andrew couldn’t stop seeing the invisible hand print on his shoulder left by the nurse. 

“What did she say to you?” He asked. They did not have a deal, it did not matter. He asked anyway. 

“Katelyn?” Aaron asked, genuinely confused for a moment. He corrected himself before Andrew’s silence could have an impact. “Oh, Tammy. She said that I… it doesn’t matter.” He came further into the room and looked through Neil’s chart like he had any right to. And maybe he did. Andrew supposed that maybe they  _ did _ still have a deal. 

Neil adjusted himself so he was sitting slightly more than laying. He was visibly in less pain but he still winced as he pushed himself up.

“What did she say?” he asked. Aaron scowled. 

“If it doesn’t matter to  _ him _ , it definitely doesn’t matter to  _ you _ ,” he snapped.

“It matters to  _ you _ , obviously, so tell us or I’ll just ask Tammy tomorrow morning. She likes me. She’ll tell me.” Why was Neil so interested? Normally those two barely said five words to each other, and three of those words almost always had four letters. Andrew silently cursed the possibility that he might be partially responsible for facilitating some sort of semi-respectful association between the two. That was nearly  _ friendship _ in Neil’s book and  _ that _ would not do at all. They would definitely need to break up. 

“It doesn’t fucking matter because I can’t do it anyway,” Aaron ground out.

“Well doesn’t  _ that _ sound like a neat little excuse.” Neil brought up his hand to badly cough  _ bullshit _ into his knuckles and then patted his chest. “Sorry. Throat’s still scratchy from the film crew.” 

The redness of Aaron’s eyes spread to his cheeks and ears. “She said I did good, okay?” he snapped, palm flashing at his side. “Even though I was fucking  _ useless _ . She said there’s a physician here who’s always taking on volunteers. And- not shadowing.  _ Volunteering _ . With a  _ physician _ ? That’s so fucking- I mean- It’s  _ nuts _ . And she said I would be good. That she would recommend me.”

“So what’s the problem?” Neil pressed. 

“The problem, genius, is that summer practice starts soon. Can’t get my undergrad without a scholarship and can’t commute without a car.” He flourished his free hand as if presenting something. 

Again, Neil coughed  _ bullshit _ into his hand, this time, impossibly, less convincing. 

“You’re terrible at that,” Andrew said.

“Thanks,” Neil said without looking at him. “That  _ definitely _ sounds like a cop out,” he prodded at Aaron. 

“I wouldn’t be-”

“Oh boo-hoo. I’m Aaron. I have a 4.0 GPA and performance anxiety. Waah.” 

“There’s no way I-”

“Someone told me I did a good job. Waaaaaah.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Cut the crap! Tammy is way smarter than you and she saw what a good job you did. Deal with it!”

“You  _ complimenting _ me, Josten?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole. I have a fever, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“You don’t actually have a fever right now,” Andrew pointed out helpfully.

“I’m high on pain medication, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Aaron looked at the chart in his hands and Andrew could swear that his lips almost twitched at what he read.

“Oh yea, you must be  _ delirious. _ Completely deluded. I’m surprised you’re even conscious.”

Neil gave a rude smile and pressed back down into Andrew’s shoulder to watch his show with a quiet but firm, “Figure it out.” 

Aaron shook his head and replaced the chart. “The others want to visit before going home. Want me to tell them to piss off?” He asked. Andrew squeezed Neil’s shoulders in question and got a grumpy noise in return. Fine.

“If they’re quiet and not pests.” He didn’t want to deal with them but it would be worse to deny them. They were all entitled and awfully good at being exasperating.

Nicky and Abby were the first ones who came in when Aaron stepped out. Nicky cooed and fussed uselessly over Neil while Abby buzzed around looking at his chart and monitors. Neil paid them little mind, having spent all of his energy mocking Aaron. His fever was down but he wasn’t  _ better _ . This meant that the two bothered Andrew with their questions instead. 

Abby answered many that Nicky had but she had some of her own that he did not want to deal with. Namely, about his oxygen and anxiety treatment and  _ what are these notes about such and such? Since when has Neil such and such _ ?

Andrew’s headache was returning so quickly that he considered stabbing himself in the throat with Neil’s I.V. He said, “Get out,” and, “Everyone.” 

Abby looked affronted but Nicky understood. He opened the door and waited for Abby to follow. She didn’t. 

Andrew thought of the paperwork, of the content expression on Neil’s face as it was filed and consent was granted to each other. He thought about all these  _ questions _ and things Neil did not give the foxes permission to know. He heard Neil saying  _ They do stuff t’me. I don’ understand _ and let go of logical reactions.

“Andrew. I’m staying. There are really explicit staff notes about his reaction- the  _ violence _ -”

“Leave the hospital before I make you.” The only thing preventing him was Neil’s limp body trapping him to the bed. 

“He needs his family. You can’t make-”

“ _ I’m _ his family,” Andrew snarled, looking her in the face for the first time. Her shock was evident and it was lucky that Nicky pulled her out of the room. 

Neil didn’t say anything about the scene but he was awake. On the television he turned the subtitles on and the volume off and the room fell into quiet. It was almost possible to pretend that beyond the drawn blinds was an empty hall. It helped, marginally. Their breaths matched and soothed them with gentle, repetitive movement. Andrew could tell Neil was falling asleep by the way his feet rubbed back and forth, arches interlocking and then switching in time with their breathing. They stopped, and he was asleep. 

Bee came in towards the end of the episode. Where Andrew had felt a flash of fury before he now felt empty. Resigned. Questions and talking. He couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth or bring his vocal chords together. 

But Bee… oh Bee. She knew. She didn’t come in to talk, didn’t even try to make eye contact. She just dropped off a tupperware of pizza, a styrofoam cup of cocoa, and a folded piece of paper. 

“Sleep tight, you two,” she said on her way out. 

The consideration helped. Andrew came back to himself quicker knowing it wasn’t expected of him. After the sun set, he took a sip of the cocoa and opened the paper. It was a list. It was a concise, bulleted list that began with the time Neil would be checked on by a staff member. It mentioned what paperwork and insurance business Wymack had handled. Where and how his family was. What time Aaron would be returning. 

That last one made him frown at the same moment Aaron came back into the room with Neil’s PSU duffel. 

He just… he just wanted to be left alone. 

Aaron turned the lights down low but not off. From the duffel, he pulled out a clean set of clothes that he tucked next to the tupperware. Then a blanket that he took to the makeshift cot and draped over his knees as he got comfortable with a textbook. He did all of this nearly silently, just whispers of cloth and footsteps. 

The quiet remained. The low light and rocking breaths were impossible to fight against when he was so mentally exhausted. Andrew stayed awake by sheer force of will until a physician came in at exactly the time Bee wrote. She didn’t say anything about their sleeping arrangements but did apologize when she woke up Neil for a brief exam. She asked about how he was feeling, mentally and physically, as she double checked something attached to his I.V.

Neil said that he hadn’t  _ gone away _ since he woke up from the ultrasound. The doctor made a pleased noise and made a note in his chart. 

After she left, Andrew turned his head until his lips were pressed against the short hair behind Neil’s ear. 

“Gone away?” he whispered. He did not think he could actually make his voice work more than that. 

“Dunno how else to say it,” Neil whispered back. “I remember being scared when we got here and I think I punched someone?” Andrew would have paid to see that. “But sometimes it was like my whole body was in a fishbowl. I don’t know what it was…” 

Andrew lifted his eyes and in the dim light met Aaron’s intense gaze. He jutted his chin to indicate that yes, he was allowed to talk to them. 

“Fight, flight, freeze,” he said after a moment's hesitation. “His trauma came repeatedly at the hands of other people so when they were trying to check him in and he was too incapacitated to flee, he fought. Then the pain became worse so when he couldn’t fight anymore his body froze. He had a handful of dissociative episodes at the height of everything.”

Neil hummed against Andrew’s shoulder and said, “I think that’s the most competent you’ve sounded all day.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Amazing bedside manner.” 

“Choke.” 

“Ten out of Ten, would antagonize again.” 

“Antagonize  _ this _ .” 

“Children,” Andrew rumbled dully. Neil’s body shook with a laugh that didn’t make a sound and he curled up closer to Andrew’s side, back bowed to relieve any remaining pain and ankles rubbing back and forth. He whispered, “What a good nursey you’ve been,” because he always needed the last word, even when it wasn’t heard. 

The cycle repeated, matching breaths, soothing sways, drooping eyes. Neil fell asleep within minutes but Andrew focused intently on the baking show to stay up. 

Until it clicked off. 

“Go to sleep,” Aaron said. “I’ll stay up.” 

“Why should you?” Andrew asked. Aaron didn’t have an answer for such a long time that Andrew thought  _ he _ might have fallen asleep instead. 

But in the quiet, dark room, Aaron gave him something.

“You didn’t need to make that deal this morning.”

Andrew opened his eyes without realizing that they’d even closed. He did not ask for clarification- if he would have done it for Andrew or Neil or practice or a sudden, uncharacteristic charity. The motivation didn’t matter, just the olive branch.

“I didn’t think he was sick when I made the deal.”

Aaron did not ask for clarification. 

Andrew closed his eyes and slept. 


	3. Angst, drugs, and soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst followed by shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrew is protective and doting but he's also a butthead and I love him
> 
> this fic has the word "soup" once for every 1k.

The morning of Neil’s surgery was hot but hospitals are air conditioned. Neil assumed this was why Aaron was still in the room when he woke up as they tried to avoid running up the electric bill at the house. His eyes were bloodshot and underscored by thin purple skin. 

“You look worse than I feel,” he said quietly, unsure if Andrew was awake yet. Aaron looked up from his textbook with a dead glare and flipped him off without comment. 

Neil attempted to extend his legs and flex his hips. What was usually the most gratifying stretch of the day only served to punch a groan out of him at the gnawing pain that radiated from his stomach. It was duller than the sharp stabbing of the day before, eased by whatever leftovers were seeping through his I.V. but still very much present. His discomfort wasn’t helped by sleeping on the same side all night either. For the last few months, he would often wake up and turn over at some point and take the pressure off his joints. Sometimes he didn’t even wake up to do it anymore. Last night, however, he had slept like a log and there was no room to turn with two bodies in the narrow bed. 

Andrew was on his back, one arm around Neil, who had his face pressed into the side of his chest. The hand on Neil’s waist squeezed once and began to rub back and forth over the hospital gown. 

Aaron watched. Maybe he was too tired to do it subtly or maybe he just didn’t care but he stared at them as Andrew came to, not with a flinch but a flex. Neil grumbled out his jealousy of Andrew stretching his legs and feet. 

“Sucks to be you,” Andrew said, voice gravelly. The vibration against Neil’s ear was almost too loud for him to make out the words. He pinched Andrew’s stomach in retaliation and earned himself another bone popping, exaggerated stretch complete with relieved groan and everything. 

“Mean,” Neil complained. The hand on his waist came up briefly to swipe through his hair before returning to its rubbing. Neil closed his eyes. 

“I’m hungry,” Andrew said. Aaron paused for a beat, the words taking time to register, and then pulled out his phone. 

“I’ll tell Nicky to bring us something. What do you want?”

“Waffles.” 

“And fruit,” Neil added.

“You can’t eat anything before surgery.”

Neil opened his eyes, less because of the comment and more because of Aaron’s tone. He sounded like he was about to add on  _ sorry _ . His expression said what his voice couldn’t, sleeplessness robbing him of his antagonistic inhibitions. It was… it was… 

“Gross,” Neil said.

“Whatever,” Aaron grumbled at his cellphone. Huh. Not even a  _ fuck you _ . 

“Have him take you home to sleep,” Andrew told him. 

“I’m staying,” Aaron argued and wasn’t that an odd little thing. 

“Die then,” Andrew said and Aaron rolled his eyes. 

“I’m a pre-med on a sports scholarship. I can sleep anywhere. Bunch of assholes.” This last part was muttered under his breath as he adjusted his blanket and settled down using his textbook as a pillow. It took less than a minute for him to fall asleep. 

“I miss being able to do that,” Neil mused idly.

“Oh yea, sleep deprivation. How you must suffer so without it.”

“Point. Did you sleep okay?” Andrew grunted in response, eyes falling closed again but he didn’t sleep.

Neil knew that it was early in the morning but he felt uncomfortably awake. A whisper of anxiety was creeping back into his veins at the prospect of repeating anything from yesterday. His head was clearing enough to remember more of it than he truly wanted and anticipation was beginning to bubble up. The monitor ( _ why  _ was he still hooked up to so many things?) picked up its beeping just so. He felt Andrew’s sharp intake of breath. 

“What’s wrong,” he said, voice even as ever, a comforting monotone. 

“Everything, I guess,” Neil explained. 

“Body.”

And, oh, what a familiar question that was- saved for times best left behind closed doors and away from prying ears. They had a deal, though, so Neil answered, “Hurts less than being stabbed. Like I was hit with a hammer from the inside.”

“Brain.”

They had a deal. “Nervous. Very nervous.”

“Bad nervous,” Andrew supplied and Neil nodded.

“I can remember things but remembering makes me anxious that they’ll happen again.”  _ Afraid _ was almost the right word, but Neil had felt so many different kinds of fear that he did not want to catalog another.

“Which things are you worried about?”

“Going away. Feeling helpless around so many people. People doing things to me that I don’t understand.” Oh god, he was going to willingly- he would let them- they were going to-

The heart monitor began picking up minutely. 

“Andrew they’re going to cut me open. They’re going to- the  _ knives _ .”

“ _ Shut up _ ,” Andrew said fiercely. The edge to his voice stopped Neil more than anything. He sat up in one motion that pushed Neil up as well, balancing him with his hands until they were both sure Neil could stay sitting up on his own. Then, he twisted in the dinky hospital bed, sheets tangling around their bare knees, and took Neil’s face between his two hands.

They were quiet for a long time. Neil stared into Andrew’s eyes, focused on identifying every swirl of color that made them unique, trying to commit them to memory the way Andrew could in seconds. Andrew did not have any words of comfort. They would do no good. Surgery was unavoidable and so was everything that came with it. The people, the medication, the sleep, the knives. 

No. Scalpels. Tools. Instruments. He didn’t think he’d ever been hurt by a scalpel before. They were made for minute precision, not mass damage and fear mongering. They were meant to minimize pain. An entire person would be there just for his pain and medication and sleep. Tammy would be there, with her genuine face that didn’t react to his scars and with her questions of consent. 

He was afraid. It was okay to be afraid. Elias was teaching him healthy ways of being afraid. 

“Can we watch Exy?” Neil asked. He liked Exy. It was a distraction and a comfort and sometimes comfort was more important than facing reality. That was okay. He has permission. 

“Do whatever,” Andrew said and lowered his hands. Neil knew he meant it as  _ whatever you want _ and  _ whatever you need _ . Andrew used the controls on his side to raise the head of the bed more and Neil used the remote to flip through the channels until he found a rerun of some national game. It took a second longer to readjust into comfortable positions, Neil attached to wires and liquids and oxygen and his hips begging for a new position that was always at odds with what his stomach needed.

“I’m about to rip everything off of me and run down the hall,” he threatened. He brought up one knee to stretch the other out and then switched, settling against Andrew’s crossed legs. He was still wearing the clothes from yesterday despite the change on the bedside table. They smelled stale but it wasn’t overpowering and the view of Andrew’s bare calf bulging where it was tucked over one foot was well worth… well basically anything.

“You’re the one who wanted to watch this,” Andrew said when Neil couldn’t look away. 

“Can I put my hand on your knee?” Neil asked.

“Yes.”

_ Yes _ . He felt a little silly, because Andrew wore shorts for Exy, but in plain clothes he wasn’t covered in knee socks and padding. In the spring, Andrew had worn these shorts in their overheated dorm and let Neil touch his legs all over for the first time. Now, he put his hand on Andrew’s knee and only moved as far as his fingers could stretch, tickling himself on the sparse blonde hairs. After some indulgence, he watched the game. 

Nicky came with breakfast not much later, knocking quietly and peaking before coming in. He was reserved, quiet, and Neil remembered how things had gone last night without remorse. 

The waffles he brought smelled so sweet that Neil wrinkled his nose when Andrew opened them. He hadn’t eaten properly in two days now but he didn’t feel the effects as severely as was possible. Maybe the hydration, maybe something else being pumped into him. 

Nicky sat near Aaron’s feet, patting him absently on the ankle as he told them in low tones about what was going on at home. Neil ignored him mostly but his low voice was a soothing backdrop to the muted game. He tried hard to focus, to busy his brain with watching the tv and hearing Nicky and smelling sugar and feeling Andrew’s knee under his palm. There was a baseline of vague  _ dread _ circulating around his chest and throat that threatened. It didn’t threaten anything in particular, just  _ threatened _ . 

Andrew put his free hand behind Neil and scratched his back through the opening in the gown. Neil squeezed his knee and focused on that, too. 

Too early, too too early, Tammy announced her presence with a knock. Nicky was the only one to greet her and scooted out now that they had been caught with too many guests in the room with words of love. Neil didn’t want him to leave, feeling that dread take him by the neck.

“I  _ am _ early, Neil, you still have time,” Tammy said at the look on his face. 

“Why?” Neil asked. He was surprised he got even the one word out. 

Tammy spoke as she putzed around checking everything. “Call me a worrier.” 

“Are you worried for the same reason I’m still hooked up to that thing?” Neil asked with a head tilt at the heart monitor and its muted beeping. Tammy made a considering face with a nod and a shrug.

“Yeah, a bit. Sorry about all this.” She held up a pinch of wires from where she was checking a reading on the monitor. “Anxiety attacks and dissociative episodes can affect blood pressure and oxygen levels and yours had dropped a bit too much for our liking yesterday. It looks like you had an uneventful night, though, which is good.”

“You… came in to work hours early to check on me?  _ Why _ ?” Neil asked again. He was beginning to get a funny feeling in his chest. Not bad, just funny. It ballooned, taking room away from the apprehension. 

“I came in because I realized your anesthesiologist would be coming in earlier for you than most pre-op patients to talk about preventive options. We want you to feel comfortable and keep your blood pressure at safe levels.”

“You still haven’t answered the question,” Andrew said. Neil nudged him with his elbow but Tammy just raised an unimpressed brow at him. 

“Then ask better questions,” she teased and oh, Neil liked her  _ very _ much. “I thought it would be best if I were here to reintroduce them.” 

Neil stared at Tammy for a long time as she took his temperature, trying to come to terms with the consideration of someone who was basically a stranger. Not just her preoccupation with his well being hours before her shift, but that she even thought about his delirious reaction to people yesterday. It was the same way she looked at his scars. It was the way she spoke about his issues in a way that made them seem like  _ non _ issues. Just facts. The same way Elias spoke to him for the first few months of therapy. 

“Too bad Aaron is asleep. I wanted him to meet Dr. Stevens properly.”

That caught Andrew’s attention but Neil was the only one to acknowledge her. “The doctor who takes on volunteers?”

Tammy brightened. “Oh, did he tell you? Exciting, right?”

“You think he’d be good for it? He still has two more years of undergrad left.”

“I think that’s what caught Dr. Stevens' eye, actually. You might not remember much of yesterday but Aaron had some really insightful things to say for someone at his level.”

“It wasn’t your idea?” Neil thought back to what Aaron had said yesterday evening and his excuses for missing out on this opportunity.

“I was a little preoccupied with  _ somebody _ trying to pull themselves out of a CAT scan,” she said with a look at Neil. Whatever. He wasn’t embarrassed. “Aaron had left to make some calls and Dr. Stevens commented on his intuition and he’s always doing what he can to support students. He used to work at a teaching hospital and between you and me, I think he misses it.” 

The conversation dropped when Neil didn’t know what to say. He didn’t particularly care for Aaron past what he meant to Andrew and Nicky. It was interesting, however, to have insight into who he was outside the foxes. 

Tammy left and came back with a middle aged blonde man in a white coat. Andrew had gotten out of the bed and stood out of the way between Neil and the comatose Aaron. He had more to say than Neil, stepping into a role that Neil didn’t feel equipped to deal with, as Dr. Stevens began talking about different options for his pain and anxiety and their effects. 

Neil hated the idea of falling asleep before the surgery but the possibility of losing himself was worse. Even without the fever. Even with the pain contained to ‘mostly bearable’ instead of ‘I am currently dying.’ His mental presence might hold those reactions at bay but they also made him more conscious of dangerous thoughts. 

Dr. Stevens talked about blood pressures and pain thresholds and used a lot of words that Neil would never be able to spell. The influx of information was overwhelming, going in one ear and coming right out the other and he struggled to hold on to any shred of comprehension. 

The three of them were so…  _ concerned _ about everything he was feeling. And he was, too… but it didn’t seem like there were any options to help without sedating him. He didn’t want that. He told them he didn’t want that yet. 

Dr. Stevens opened his mouth to respond but Andrew stepped forward first and asked, “Why not now?”

Neil… didn’t have a logical answer for that. He just didn’t want to sleep. He stared into Andrew’s face and shrugged lamely.

“That’s a shitty reason,” Andrew said. Tammy clucked her tongue at him but Neil wouldn’t ever want Andrew to be someone else. 

“It’s never been a shitty reason before,” Neil argued unfairly. He actually felt guilty for framing it that way, like his  _ no _ wasn’t respected. That wasn’t exactly true. Andrew didn’t react to the jab.

“Unless it becomes a medical necessity, nobody is going to force this  _ if _ you say no.”

Because Neil hadn’t said no. Not yet.

“If it’s just total sedation you’re worried about I can work around that,” Dr. Stevens said. “You  _ will _ probably feel quite tired and possibly fall asleep but you should be responsive enough to be woken before your procedure.”

And that did sound like a decent compromise, however unhappy Neil was at the need or possible side effects. He didn’t have a reason to argue and he was so tired of feeling scared, of the wrinkle that had been a permanent mark between Andrew’s brows. He said, “Okay,” and watched the wrinkle soften slightly. 

Dr. Stevens asked him more questions and told him about the surgery and the amnesia he would probably experience. Tammy was the one to administer whatever Dr. Stevens had decided on, inserting it right into a port attached to his I.V. 

For several minutes, he didn’t feel anything.

The drowsiness hit first, sending a jolt through him as he remembered the uncontrollable feeling of falling unconscious yesterday. It barely lasted a minute, Andrew’s hand threaded in the back of his hair, before a trickle of calm began to settle in. Maybe less calm and more carelessness. 

He spoke to Andrew. He said things and had things said to him. Talking kept him awake. He talked about the Exy game on T.V. He talked to Tammy. He talked to Aaron who was  _ definitely _ not going to sleep as well as Ne-

A tube is pulled from his throat and he coughs.

It’s too loud so he tells everyone to  _ shut up _ .

Oh my  _ God shut the fuck up _ .

Someone is bothering him and he tells them to fuck off.

“Does that sound cognizant enough to get this bastard out of the PACU so  _ I _ can get some peace?”

That’s better.

“Was he like this yesterday?”

“Definitely not.”

It was…  _ very _ important that they did not know how drunk he was.

“I think he’s coming back.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Don’t say stupid things.”

Those were… those were  _ some _ legs.

“ _ Please _ shut up.”

Neil waved his middle finger toward the wobbly, double image of Aaron. God,  _ two _ Aaron’s would suck _ so much _ .

“I couldn’t agree more.” Andrew held up his hand, palm out, and Neil took his time to high five it because missing would give away his level of sobriety.

“Yeah, because a three minute high five screams sober. And since when do  _ you _ give high fives?”

Neil’s pinky made contact and he adjusted his hand sideways to press it flush with Andrew’s. Yes. That is how they work. What was the next step? He was pretty sure there was a next step. He wrapped his fingers around Andrew’s palm and shook it up and down a few times. Yeah, that seemed right. 

“...okay yea, I guess I get it. Nicky is going to be pissed we didn’t record this.”

Neil used his grip on Andrew’s hand to push his body a step back from the bed. It gave him a better look at his legs. Nice.

“We… were going to go… t’a’tel” he said. He mostly got the slow words right. He was sure they didn’t notice his little slip up. “We… were going t- t’ave ssss _ uch _ a g’time.”

“It was just a shitty motel off campus,” Andrew said. 

Neil sighed at Andrew’s knees. “ _ Yea _ bu’ we werrrrre go-ing to have  _ sex _ there.”

“ _ Oh my God _ ,” Aaron and his double yelled and stomped out the door. Neil waved at him with his free hand. 

“Bye!” he chirped.

“Are you done pretending you’re sober, now?” Andrew asked. Neil tried to look at his face, blinking and squinting in an attempt to focus. He could tell Andrew was making  _ some _ expression, he just couldn’t make out the details through the double image. 

“You haf to say… ever-rything.”

“Why.”

“Anton.”

“Anton?”

“I can’t see yooouuurrrr face. Can’t translate y’r eyebr’s.”

“And what about Anton?”

Neil drew his head back, shocked. “How d’ _ you _ know ‘bout Anton? Jussa- just a  _ dream _ .” 

“Tell me.” 

Neil hummed. He wanted to touch Andrew’s knees but his hand was trapped forever by holding Andrew’s. As he spoke, the words got easier and easier to pronounce with less effort. “Anton Min-yard. He was th’ third tw’n. Arrow- Arny- Aar’n bub’ _ sorbed _ him but he was still a ghos’ baby and he grew up. T’ be a chess champion.”

“Hm.” Andrew did something with his free hand. “Tell me again about Anton,” he said. Neil did because he liked doing things for Andrew. 

As time progressed, Andrew became a single, solid entity and Neil could articulate to Tammy that he wanted to go home. She made him eat and drink and walk and pee on his own. Easy peasy. Well. Maybe not  _ easy _ , but doable. His limbs felt cottony and weak and eating hurt his throat but he did it all without any help. 

“I’m  _ very _ good at this,” Neil told his cranberry juice. Someone snorted. He pretended it was Andrew. 

“Do you need any help getting changed?” Tammy asked. Neil peaked under the cotton swab he was holding over the bleeding puncture left behind by the I.V. 

Andrew swatted at him until he stopped and said, “No.” 

Neil wasn’t the only one who changed. Andrew took a pile of clothes to the bathroom as Neil picked through his duffel bag. There… really wasn’t anything wearable but all of the soft cotton and elastic bands promised comfort. 

Andrew came back wearing a pair of Neil’s jeans. He dropped his dirty clothes onto the bag and helped Neil change into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt. He was  _ very _ comfortable but a glance down made it look like he was pantsless. Andrew clicked his tongue and tucked a pinch of cloth into the front of his shorts. While he was at it, he tugged at the drawstrings as far as they would go and tied them tight. 

“Reeeeal lil,” Neil said to the knot.

“Real something all right,” Andrew said. He was texting on his phone with one hand and dropping the unopened tupperware onto the bag with the other. Neil worked very hard to close the zipper. 

Tammy came in with a wheelchair saying something about hospital policy. Andrew helped him into it and hefted the bag onto his shoulder. Aaron was waiting in the hallway and dumped his blanket and textbook onto Neil’s lap. 

Andrew got a head start to cool the car and pull it up while Tammy gave Neil a run through of the aftercare that the others already got. She gave him a packet of paper and patted down his fluffy hair and Neil felt a wave of gratitude. 

“Thanks for sticking around even though I punched people,” he said. Tammy smiled. 

“Thanks for not punching me. Aaron,” she nodded her goodbye to him. Aaron ducked his head to his chest with a grunt and pushed Neil toward the elevator. It was remarkably slow. 

“It’s gonna be  _ really _ shitty.” 

“Obviously,” Aaron said. After a beat, his curiosity won out. “What is?”

“The car I’m gonna buy you so you can get off your ass and volunteer with Dr. Stevens.” Aaron was behind him and very, very quiet. Neil knew the truth but he pictured his face comically surprised. “You said it was just some physician, said it was Tammy’s idea. But she told us the truth.”

“Why the fuck would you buy me a car?” Aaron said quietly. 

“A  _ shitty _ car,” Neil corrected. The elevator dinged and they headed past the cafeteria to the front of the hospital. “I’m sick of seeing your stupid face around.”

Aaron let out a single bark of surprised laughter at the irony. They began approaching the entrance, Andrew leaning against the Maserati outside in sunglasses. 

“And maybe as a thank you.” 

The doors slid open. They dropped it. 

Andrew pushed off the car and tossed whatever was in Neil’s lap into the back seat. As Neil stood slowly, Andrew kept his hands hooked below his armpits to offer complete support if needed. Aaron had barely handed off the wheelchair to a staff member before he let out a violent, “Oh  _ Come on! What the fuck! _ ” behind Neil.

“Hey Andrew?” Neil asked as they maneuvered him into the front seat.

“Mhm?”

“These Nicky’s shorts?”

“Mhm.”

“The ones that say  _ nasty _ on the butt?”

“Mhm.”

“That explains it.”

Andrew stood on the curb, hands braced on the car and door, head tilted so he could look over his sunglasses. “Or it could be your balls hanging out.” 

Neil cursed and looked down at his lap. The hems of the shorts were  _ short _ but everything was in place. Andrew closed the door on Neil’s insult and peeled out of the lot as soon as they were all settled. 

“I fucking hate this family,” Aaron snarled in the back seat. Neil smiled out the window. 

Pulling into the driveway of the Columbia house felt like a fresh breath. It felt like he hadn’t been there in weeks. Nicky and Kevin brought in their things while Andrew set Neil up in the living room on the couch. He wedged him with pillows on each side, draped a blanket over his lap, and even lifted his feet onto the coffee table. 

“Busy Bee,” Neil commented. He still didn’t feel completely in control of the line that connected his brain to his tongue. Andrew pinched Neil’s nose once and left to putter about. 

There was soup and a schedule. The soup was leftover from the day before and lukewarm. The schedule was from the hospital and said when Neil should take his next painkiller. Neither of these things appealed to Neil in the slightest. He didn’t care that his stomach and, weirdly, his shoulders hurt like hell. He didn’t care that he was capable of eating. Can’t lose your mind to medication if you can’t take it. 

Neil took the remote from where it was wedged between his pillow throne and Kevin’s thigh and changed the channel. 

“Hey! I was watching that,” Kevin griped. Nicky shushed him from one of the recliners. 

“Be nice to him, Kevin. He  _ literally _ had an organ taken out today.”

“Yea, Kevin,” Neil added. He flipped until he found the baking show he discovered yesterday, which earned a disgruntled noise from Kevin.

“Too bad you missed therapy because you’re going crazy,” Kevin grumbled, crossing his arms and slouching down. 

“Therapy means I have self worth now,” Neil said. “We’re watching baking.” He stirred around the bowl of cold soup, jumbling the little pasta letters.

With some fiddling, he managed to pile off to the side the letters FUK U. He elbowed Kevin in the side. Kevin craned his neck over and gruffed out, “c’mon, man.” 

There was some cursing from the kitchen and then Aaron stomped into the living room to drop into the other recliner. 

“ _ I’m _ the one who got the recipe from Katelyn’s mom,” Aaron said. “ _ I _ started the fucking meatballs yesterday and he thinks he knows everything about Italian wedding soup? He doesn’t even  _ like _ soup.” 

“Does  _ anybody _ like eating soup in the summer,” Kevin said. Aaron flipped him off. Neil twirled his spoon around until he had a collection of letters that said EAT SHIT.

“Ugh, stop,” Kevin whined when Neil nudged him again.

“What on  _ earth  _ could he even be doing?”

“He’s spelling shit in his soup.”

“Kevin,” Aaron said like he thought Kevin was the stupidest person on the planet. “He took a dose of painkillers an  _ hour _ ago. He can’t even spell his own name.”

“Poor thing,” Nicky cooed. Neil attempted to look pitiable under the affections. “Remember how he reacted to Dust? Baby’s got the tolerance levels of an  _ actual _ baby.”

None of them had to know that the medicine was tucked under his bowl. Neil concentrated and spelled out HISTORY IZ STUPID and nudged Kevin again.

“You’re stupid!” Kevin shot back. 

A second later, a wet dish towel slapped into the back of Kevin’s head and slid down his neck. He shot forward with a loud, “dude!” and tossed it onto the floor. He and Neil turned to look over the back of the couch (Neil with quite a bit of difficulty) to see Andrew standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and face unimpressed. He didn’t go back to the kitchen until Kevin stood up.

“God,  _ fine _ . I’ll go hang out in Nicky’s room.”

“Oooh, goody! Let’s  _ goss _ ,” Nicky said, getting up as well and jogging ahead. Kevin glared at Neil, like it was his fault those two were going to hang out. 

“How do you sleep at night?” he asked.

“Usually as the little spoon,” Neil answered. Kevin rolled his eyes and left. 

And then there were two.

Neil wanted to put the bowl on the coffee table but his shoulders were  _ radiating _ with pain and he didn’t think bending over would work in favor of the stabbing in his stomach the way it had pre-surgery. He  _ could _ eat it clean and put it on the couch or floor, but then he wouldn’t have an excuse not to take his pills. He resigned himself to holding it for the rest of his life. 

Whatever Andrew was doing, it took a while, giving him time alone to recharge is social battery. Neil watched people bake patisserie (he even learned what the word patisserie meant) and Aaron poked around his phone. It was how most of the forced vacation had gone, various combinations of the five tolerating each other. Usually it was Exy on t.v. though. 

“You don’t have to,” Aaron said down to his phone. Even with his memory problems of the day, Neil knew what he meant. 

“I mean it when I say shitty. You’re going to be so embarrassed by it you won’t even park it near the tower.” Okay, maybe not  _ that _ bad, but it would definitely be one that Andrew would ridicule so the karma of it all balanced out. 

“Whatever. Fine. I guess knowing someone with a rich uncle has its perks. Might as well abuse them.”

That was… huh? “Rich uncle? My uncle? Uncle Stuart?”

Aaron finally looked up with an impatient expression. “Did you think Wymack  _ wouldn’t _ let your only living relative know that you were in the hospital? Why do you think we have the a.c. on? He paid our electric bill and gave Nicky money for groceries and shit for you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he already paid off your fucking hospital bill. Rich bastard.”

He said this all like it was disdainful but Neil remembered how hot the afternoons had been getting. Nicky wouldn’t let Neil help with the house bills so it was nice to see him get some assistance. He hadn’t even realized that, yeah, hey, he wasn’t sweating through his shirt. He even had a  _ blanket _ . 

“Still gonna be shitty,” Neil said under his breath. 

“You don’t have to at  _ all _ ,” Aaron argued even though he’d  _ just _ said he’d allow it. Disagreeable was his natural state, after all. 

“Yea, but I’m  _ gonna _ . Deal with it.”

“But  _ why _ ?”

“Because, Aaron!” Raising his voice put too much pressure on his diaphragm, he continued quieter. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s a big deal for a pre-med jackass to be noticed by a real, good doctor. Because I remember  _ a lot _ of what you did for me without being a dick about it. I mean, what would have happened if we hadn’t gone to the hospital?” Aaron didn’t say anything, as if he thought the question was rhetorical. “Seriously. What would have happened to me?”

Aaron chewed on his cheek and shrugged one shoulder uncomfortably. “No way to know for sure. The cyst could have burst and caused an infection. Pancreatitis could have gotten worse until it affected you kidneys and lungs. Blood pressure could have dropped and you could have gone into shock.”

Neil felt his brows furrow. He had a memory that felt more like a dream of rushed conversations. “That almost happened anyway,” he said. 

“Not  _ that _ bad and not because of your pancreas, though that exacerbated the problem.”

“Why did it happen?” Neil asked. He kind of knew. He wanted to be told again. 

“Your body was shutting down. You were basically playing dead as a response to perceived threats.”

“But they thought it was my pancreas,” Neil said. He didn’t remember, but he knew. 

“Yeah,” Aaron said. 

“But they were wrong.”

“ _ No _ , they just- I knew-” He sighed through his nose and pursed his lips. “I knew if they only treated the physical cause it might not be enough. They didn’t know about- that you had-” he gestured to Neil’s head like it was some big shameful secret that he had PTSD. “They needed to know how severe it could be- that it could-”

“I remember.” It wasn’t a total lie, Neil had a recollection, but they were venturing too close to a civil conversation and he wasn’t sure the delicate balance of their antagonistic relationship could weather it. “I’m buying you a fucking car.” It was a thank you. “A  _ shitty _ one.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and went back to texting. 

Neil had been stabbed before. He’d had plenty of injuries to and around his abs. He knew how to handle the pain left behind from the surgery because he’d dealt with it before. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get off the couch or toilet without help at least until tomorrow evening. He knew he’d sleep in the recliner to keep himself on his back and to sit him up in the morning. He knew to do absolutely  _ anything _ to prevent coughing or sneezing (and laughing, too, he supposed, but that had never been a problem on the run). 

He didn’t expect to feel so puffy or to have shooting pain in his shoulders. Or the burping. Mostly it was the shoulder pain. It was almost bad enough to distract him from his stomach pain. It felt like his arm had been pulled out of its socket. 

“Why do my shoulders hurt so goddamn much?” He asked Aaron. 

Aaron didn’t even look up from his phone to say, “They can’t always get all of the air out after laparoscopic. Should be better tomorrow.”

“Will the pain meds help?”

“Nope,” Aaron said, popping the p like a dick. He looked up for all of a second, annoyed. “You should take them, though. You’ll heal faster if you can rest and relax.” Neil frowned because Aaron  _ definitely _ indicated before that he thought Neil had already taken them. “Talking to you for ten seconds is a dead giveaway. You’re not sneaky.”

Rude. He was very sneaky. It wasn’t his fault he’d been lulled into a false sense of security by… you know, by  _ actual _ security and stability. Whatever. If they wouldn’t help his shoulders there was no point. He’d never had anything more than cheap vodka and adrenaline before and these wounds were  _ way _ smaller. 

The sun was setting by the time Andrew came back from the kitchen. The others had wandered about eating leftovers and snacks and Neil watched it all from his nest. When Andrew came in, it was with a large mug. He picked up the cold alphabet soup and paused before handing over the mug. Several capsules were nestled into the blanket in the imprint of the bowl.

Neil didn’t see what the big deal was, why Andrew’s passive face didn’t look quite so passive anymore. 

The new mug had more soup, this time a rich yellow broth with all kinds of different things- pasta, tiny meatballs, leafy greens. It smelled good enough to eat even though he still wasn’t hungry. 

Andrew discarded the old bowl onto the coffee table for someone else to deal with and sat as close as Neil’s pillows would allow. 

“You’re being an idiot,” he said. 

“That’s nothing new,” Neil said. He was always doing things others didn’t understand. At least that hadn’t changed. 

“Why didn’t you take your pills?”

Neil would have sighed, but the movement echoed through all of his pains and made him flinch instead. Which was also painful. Andrew was unimpressed. 

“I’m tired of feeling out of control,” Neil said. He felt like he’d been saying that a lot lately. Maybe this time it would stick. 

“Then sleep through it,” Andrew said. Well sure, that sounded so easy. But  _ falling _ asleep? How many times had he done that in the past 48 hours. How many of those times had been his choice? How many of those times had been terrifying? What would make now any different?

He didn’t say any of this out loud. He didn’t need to explain himself anymore. What was one more thing? One more thing he didn’t want, one more thing he had to do anyway. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? 

Whatever. 

Neil brought the cup up to his mouth, fingers extending as far as they could so that he didn’t need to move his shoulders, and sipped the broth. It was rich but not salty. It was good. 

“No need to look so tragic about soup,” Andrew said. Neil couldn’t shrug so he didn’t say anything and sipped some more. They often spent long stretches of time in silence, never feeling a need to fill it. Neil didn’t know why he felt like he was being unfair to Andrew by keeping quiet now. He took another sip and nibbled on a meatball. 

“This is good,” he said softly. Andrew wouldn’t care about the compliment but he got it anyway. Neil slowly, slowly made his way through the soup. Soup that Andrew had made. Soup that Andrew had spent a long time making  _ for him _ . Neil said, “Thank you,” and felt like it wasn’t enough. 

There was no hand in his hair because Neil was no longer sick and Andrew needed space. He often needed space. He had spent the last two days pushing himself in every way to do what had to be done. And even after all that, he was still there in the busiest room of the house, pushing himself more. Neil considered his mug, the time spent on the recipe when the rest of them were relaxing. Aaron had done all the prep work and had wanted to finish it himself but Andrew had chosen to do it instead, alone and quiet in the kitchen.

Neil looked to Andrew now and found him staring back. A joke was there but stayed buried. Neil thought of Andrew in the hospital with him, talking to so many people and asking questions and making decisions and he wasn’t sure he would be able to do the same quite so competently if their positions were switched. 

He wanted to touch Andrew. He didn’t. He wanted to smooth away the wrinkle between Andrew’s brows so he took his pills. 

He didn’t say thank you again but he did say that they should get Kevin. 

“Why,” Andrew said. 

“To help me get into the recliner so I can try to sleep.”

The crease came back with a vengeance. It was impressive how it could appear without any difference in Andrew’s expression. 

“Because I can’t roll in my sleep or sit up on my own,” he explained further. The crease remained. “And you’ll get a break. I know cooking wasn’t enough time. It’s okay if you go upstairs.”

“Oh, Neil,” Andrew said, an old adage saved when he thought Neil was at peak idiocy. He pushed his hand through the front of Neil’s hair until it caught in the tangles. “You get stupider every day.”

It was an avoidance that Neil didn’t allow. “Don’t push yourself. You’ve already don’t so much.”

“I’m not.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

They stared for several moments longer before Andrew went to get a large glass of water. He made Neil drink it all and then helped him stand with hands under his armpits. A groan punched out of him at the movement, pressure on his shoulders and down through his ab muscles. Once up, though, it felt good. His legs were the only part of him that didn’t feel bloated and using them was a relief. 

Andrew followed Neil like a shadow as he paced around the whole downstairs for a few minutes. Neil kept his eye on the clock, wary of when the meds would kick in. He guessed thirty minutes and planned for twenty. 

“Last chance,” he said at the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t think I’m coming back down tonight if I go up there and I’m going to need a lot of help.”

Andrew looked apathetic. He said, “Yes or no,” like Neil was the one who needed space. 

“I should be asking you that,” he said. 

“Answer.” 

“Yes.”

Andrew kissed Neil once, closed mouthed and short. Neil felt a swell of affection and turned back before it could show on his face.

The stairs were slow going but felt good on his hips and knees. Sedentary did not suit him. Andrew got him as far as the bathroom sink and left him to pee and brush his teeth alone. When he went to the bedroom, all of the pillows, and even some couch cushions, were organized on one half of the bed in a reclined throne. There was exactly enough room between it and the wall for Andrew’s body and the nightstand had been pulled out to box in the head of the bed in easy reach. There were soft snacks and water and pill bottles and, curiously, an alarm clock. It took a second for him to realize it was so he could take his next dose at the exact right time. 

Andrew didn’t acknowledge that anything was different as he got ready. It was too early for him to go to bed but he changed into soft pajamas, dropped his arm bands on the floor, and helped Neil situate himself. He even rolled up two blankets and tucked them into each side to keep him from rolling over. 

“I feel like an invalid,” Neil said as Andrew walked into his spot from the end of the bed with an arm load of things. It was all over the top, borderline unnecessary, and done without complaint. 

“You are,” Andrew said. He propped himself against the headboard and put an ice pack over Neil’s shirt on his swollen belly above the incisions. He pointed his small lamp away from Neil’s face and pulled out his book from the day before. 

“Will you read to me?” Neil asked to the ceiling. 

“Are you a child?” Andrew responded. It wasn’t a no. He couldn’t comfortably reach Neil’s hair at this angle so his free hand found Neil’s instead. His fingers traced back and forth over the patterned scarring of his knuckles as he began to read aloud a story of absurd detective work. 

Neil closed his eyes and focused on his senses. He could hear Andrew’s voice and the t.v. downstairs. He could feel Andrew’s hand on his. He could see a soft red glow through his eyelids and taste mint and smell that they both needed a shower. Fear didn’t creep in as the pain receded. 

It ended on a Thursday with a sleep and scars. The scars weren’t planned and neither was the sleep and Neil considered it okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title "🔪🥣👶" (Real title from Siren Call by Hanson)
> 
> I had a TON of fun writing this it was an excellent summer activity. Come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/imperfectcourt1) and [tumblr](http://imperfectcourt.tumblr.com)


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